Of Cunning and Courage
by Moxified
Summary: Hermione Black Dagworth-Granger is a French pureblood heiress, born into a world of secrets, magic, and danger, bred to be Slytherin with the heart of Godric and the mind of Rowena. She's a talented witch, with an aptitude for magic. But she soon learns that not everything is as perfect as it seems, and sometimes, one needs to sacrifice the world for those she loves.
1. Chapter 1 : Ma Petit Cher

**A/N: A little disclaimer before you go on. In this story, Hermione is a lot more adept at magic than she usually is, this is because she's been brought up in a world where her talents are nurtured.**

 **Paris, December 1984**

"How was London, grand-papa?" the little girl asked, climbing into her grandfather's lap as he sat by the fire in his care armchair in the middle of the Dagworth-Granger library, surrounded by shelves of books and the distinct smell of parchment. The old man chuckled at his enthusiastic little granddaughter, brushing a large hand through the riot of dark curls on top of her head, not unlike his own, smiling down at her with kind grey eyes.

"Same as always, my darling, your great-uncle Orion asked about you, you know, says you ought to come visit, he hasn't seen you since you were very little. Your great-aunt Walburga is as mad as ever, but don't tell your mother that." He said with a glint in his eyes.

"Will you tell me more stories about Uncle Sirius, grand-papa?"

The old man's eyes darkened considerably, "Do not let your grand-mère hear you talking about your Uncle Sirius, child."

"Why not grand-papa?" The girl asked with confusion written across her face.

Alphard Black sighed, "Your uncle is not a Black anymore, hasn't been for quite some time now. I tell you stories about him so you will not forget him, since his beliefs do not change the fact that he is family, but Walburga has decided otherwise. It is best that you not think about him too much, dear."

Hermione, sensing the tension from her grandfather, nodded and changed the course of the conversation, smiling innocently, she asked, "So what have you brought me from London, grand-père?"

"Who says I got you anything, you spoiled little devil?"

"I'm your favorite grandchild, of course you got me something." she grinned.

The man just chuckled at her, pulling out a small green jewelry box from his jacket pocket. "There you go. It's a Black heirloom, so keep it safe, or your Aunt Walburga will have your throat."

The girl took the box from her grandfather's hands excitedly, and pried them open with her small, fingers, to find a silver pendant nestled inside, with he Black family crest shining up at her. "Thank you, grand-papa, will you help me put on one, s'il vous plait?"

Nodding his assent, Alphard black took the necklace, and unlocked the clasp, Hermione then raised her hair with both hands as the man locket the necklace into place. "Now, you'll never forget who you are, my dear."

"I don't think Maman would let me forget, no matter what." the girl said with a giggle.

Just then, a house elf popped into the room, looking cross, "Missy Hermione hides from Mimi, she does, Missy Hermione does not get ready for supper, like Mimi says, Missy Hermione is a naughty child." the elf scolded, arms folded across her tea towel uniform.

The child squealed, clutching onto her grandfather's neck, trying to escape from the angry house elf, who was still berating her for her naughtiness. Alphard let out a booming laugh as the child struggled to get away. "Now, now, Mimi, it's alright, Hermione only wanted to ensure that I had arrived safely, you can have her now." He took the girls arms off of him, and handed the little girl off to the house elf, who was still clucking in disdain. "Now Missy takes bath, she does, and Mimi will watch over Missy, she will. Missy will not escape a second time she won't."

Then, the elf's eyes strayed to Alphard, "Master will also bathe, he will, Mistress Lyra insists, she does."

"Alright, alright, just bring my trunk up to my room." Alphard nodded.

"Mimi will do as Master says." The elf said, and popped out of view, taking Hermione with her.

The old man then stood up from his seat, bones popping as he did so, and walked over to the large windows on the side of the library, watching the snow fall outside, dusting the streets like sugar. To the non-magical eye, the large, ornate 19th century building was merely a shoppe along the streets of the 16th Arrondissement, to the magical eye, the mansion was massive, with a multitude of windows and pristine white walls, a glorious structure that exuded luxury, nothing less for a family of their standing. The Dagworth-Grangers were one of, if not the most, prestigous wizarding families in all of Paris, having immigrated before the First Wizarding War, and settled there for good.

Alphard Black could not say that he missed Number 12 Grimmauld Place, because he did not, the Black Manor was dreary and depressing, nothing compared to the Dagworth-Granger Manor that he now resided in along with his wife, son-in-law, daughter, and granddaughter. The old man could not think of a better place to live. London had always been cold and unloving, especially with the war. But after You-Know-Who's defeat, it had begun to look more alive, Diagon Alley had been rebuilt, and the families who had fled the country had begun to come back. The aftermath of the war had been dreadful, with Sirius in Azkaban, losing Regulus had taken a toll on the old man, having been close to his nephews. His visits to London had become a recurring event, with both Orion and Walburga falling ill of dragon pox at the beginning of the year. He knew it was only a matter of time now.

The sound of a door opening jarred Alphard out of his thoughts, and Marriane Rosier walked into the room, with the regality of a queen stepping out to the public. "I had not realized you had arrived." she said, Alphard noticed that her voice had become softer than it was before he had left, and this concerned him.

"Is everything alright, love?" He asked his wife.

She waved him off with a thin hand "I am fine. Just a cold, is all."

Alphard knew otherwise. His wife had not been in the best of states either this year, falling sick easily and it seemed as if her cough never leaved her now.

"Are you sure?" he asked, brows joining in worry.

"Yes, yes, now stop coddling me, and prepare for dinner. You know how Lyra gets when you come home. She's had the elves working all afternoon preparing your favorites. Honestly, your daughter spoils you too much." The old woman said, smiling at him with adoring blue eyes. Alphard placed a kiss on her cheek before saying, "Merlin, it's good to be home."

 **Paris, February 1985**

Hector Dagworth-Granger held his daughter's tiny hand in one arm, and his wife's in the other as he looked onwards blankly. All of the attending were clad in black robes, even little Hermione, who eyed the white casket with teary eyes, watching as her grandfather placed grand-mère's wand inside. Hermione understood death, understood that her grandmother was gone, she had cried when she heard the news, but worried for her grandfather too much to wallow in sorrow.

The first night, she had crawled into her grandfather's bed, knowing that he'd be alone, and wanting to help him. She knew that he had loved her grandmother very much, and that he had cried when she had passed.

They had been together a long time, Hermione knew, and even though they were an arranged marriage, she knew they had grown to cherish each other over time, much like her own parents. Hermione would miss her grand-mere, but she worried more about her grand-papa, so after the Healer had exited her grandmother's room with a somber expression, she slipped out of her mother's embrace, who had also been crying, and held her grandfather's hand, hoping that she could help ease the pain.

Her parents looked on at them, wondering how a child so young could understand so much, standing in awe as their little Mira held her grandfather's hand as he cried silent tears for his wife.

 **Paris, September 19, 1986**

"Happy Birthday, dear Hermione, Happy Birthday to you."

Hermione smiled and blew out her candles, seven candles for seven years, a Wizarding milestone. The week before, she had had her first bout of accidental magic, and Mimi still wasn't speaking to her. She had sent the tiny house elf flying in a burst of pink sparks while trying to fight her way out of her afternoon lessons. The magic had made everyone laugh, the only one not amused being the poor victim of the occurrence. Hermione had apologized of course, but her mother had berated her on that, saying that it wasn't proper to apologize to servants.

Her mother now stood in the middle of the crowd, urging her father to take a photograph of her as she blew out the candles, while her grandfather looked on, his eyes twinkling. She was surrounded by children, the sons and daughters of her mother's friends, they eyed the pink frosted cake greedily, eager to have a taste. Hermione rolled their eyes at them, knowing that soon at least one of them would start a fight over the dessert, and backed away before her dress got ruined by pink icing.

Soon enough, icing came flying across the room, the perpetrator being a small dark haired boy whose hands were stained pink. His mother had started berating him in a corner, probably about manners and cake throwing impropriety. Hermione looked at her mother and already knew that the boy was not going to be at her next birthday party.

Of course he wouldn't. Bad manners were not permitted in the Dagworth-Granger household. It did not matter if you were six years old, your mother should have taught you better. Hermione rolled her eyes and strolled over to her grandfather.

"Can you believe these children?" she said, rolling her eyes as she neared him.

Her grandfather chuckled, "I believe you're still one of them my dear."

"I know better than to behave like a peasant. Honestly grand-papa, cake flinging?" she huffed in exasperation, and walked away, her curls bouncing as she did so, the ringlets falling perfectly into place, as if held there by magic, which he suspected they were, her back held straight, and her footfalls almost soundless, she walked like her grandmama, he realized with a smile on his face.

Alphard shook his head at his little granddaughter in amusement. She was growing to become quite the pureblood, her mother had seen to that, of course. She had all the right manners, she knew how to walk, and talk and act the way society women did, and she had only just turned seven. But, his little Hermione had a streak of mischief in her too, reminding him greatly of Sirius when she smirked knowingly. She was smart too, very much like her father, who let her tag along when he would go down to his lab and see to his experiments, learning all about her Papa's potions, but only when she wasn't with her tutor, or in dance lessons, or on the arm of her Maman.

She was the heir to the House of Black now, Orion had passed the year before, along with Walburga. Hermione Mira Black Dagworth-Granger was a little girl with very big Gringott's vaults to her name, and she acted like it, but she was not like every pureblood, no. Alphard could see it clear as day, she was as loving as she was trained to be indifferent, as kind as she was taught to be unfeeling, she was emotional, even if she had a mask that could rival any other Slytherin's, and a heart big enough for anyone she chose to hold in it. No matter how much her mother had tried to tame little Hermione's flame, the girl never stopped burning, and Alphard loved her for that. She would be a Slytherin, alright, she was cold enough, brilliant enough, ambitious enough, and cunning enough, but she had the heart of a lion and it made her all the more perfect.

 **Paris December 8, 1986**

"No, Hector, I will not have my daughter running around throwing hexes and charms when she's only _seven years old._ Hermione is a lady, and she should behave as one." said Lyra to her husband.

"Darling, I understand your worries, but to ignore her talent as a young witch would be a slight to Merlin. She's been gifted with a strong sense of magic, it would be best to teach her now, rather than wait for her to turn of age and learn at a pace slower than she should."

"But she's a _lady,_ Hector." Lyra insisted.

"Enough, daughter." said Alphard, who had been observing the couple silently. "Hector is right. I'll personally understand to Hermione's magic education from now on. After her day lessons, let her come to me. It would be best to let her power grow rather than suppress it to accidental bouts of magic."

Lyra looked as if she wanted to argue some more, but the paterfamilias' word was final.

"Yes, father."

From behind the library doors, a pair of glittering amber eyes peeped through the cracks, grinning wildly in excitement.


	2. Chapter 2 : The Beginning

**Paris, Summer 1991**

"Our daughter will receive the best education the Wizarding world has to offer, and that's Hogwarts." Lyra Black said stubbornly, her hair in a wild halo around her face, eyes glinting madly.

"But, mon cheri, Beauxbatons Academy is just as good, I went to school there, and look where I am today!" Hector exclaimed, gesturing his hands around, a pale blue letter in hand, seal ripped apart.

"Yes, but Hogwarts is _the best_ , and my Mira will have nothing less!"

Alphard watched his daughter argue against her husband wildly, gripping a letter in her hands so hard it was a wonder that it was still in one piece.

All the while, Alphard and Hermione sat on the opposite side of the breakfast table, watching the argument play on between the two adults as they tossed rebuttals against each other like a tennis match. The two had been going at it for a good part of breakfast, ever since a pair of owls had dropped the letters simultaneously into Hermione's toast. The girl in question was watching her parents wide eyed as they fought for where to send their daughter for school.

"She will be closer to us if she is in Beauxbatons! A floo away to the south of France!" her father insisted.

"Ahem, ahem." Alphard interrupted loudly.

The pair of squabbling adults fell silent almost immediately. Alphard may not have been as domineering as his brother, Orion, but he was still the Black Paterfamilias, and was a figure of authority in the room.

"Yes, father?" his daughter said sweetly, blinking at him with large adoring eyes that Alphard new were filled with intent.

"I believe my grandchild would be a beautiful addition to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic-"

"HA!" Hector boomed smugly at his wife, interrupting him. The Black patriarch glared at his son-in-law, causing him to hang his head in embarrassment.

"But Papa-" his daughter began to say.

"Let me bloody finish." he growled, shutting her up. "But, I believe she will be able to grow more in Hogwarts, it is, after all, my alma mater, and I think she will be able to meet a lot of new people during her stay away from home." he concluded, casting a knowing look at Hector.

Hermione looked at him sharply, not at all oblivious to his insinuation of a betrothal. He glanced at her direction, knowing full well her face would be etched in defiance, and proceeded to ignore the little witch.

"Of course, sir." Hector allowed. "I will write to Hogwarts immediately."

"No, let me darling." his wife said, triumphantly. "It will be my pleasure." with that, she walked off, a lightness in her step at knowing she had won.

"She isn't going to let me hear the end of it, you know." the brown haired man sighed, as he sat back in his seat, taking a sip of coffee.

"I'm aware. It will be amusing to watch." Alphard grinned.

"Isn't anyone going to ask what I want?" Hermione interjected, a dangerous glint in her eye, arms crossed over her chest.

"You will do as your grand father says, mon amour." Hector said, getting up and leaving the room with a nod to the other gentleman in the room.

Hermione gazed up at her grandfather, "Well?"

"My dear, Hogwarts will be good for you. I know it." he pressed.

The girl huffed, "You can't know that. What if my classmates are horrible? What if they're all trolls?"

"They won't be, I know who you'll be schooling with. They will do."

"Why can't I just stay here and learn from you, grand-père? I've been doing that for the past four years."

"It is what's best for you. Hogwarts has exceptional teachers, and you will be able to build your connections there."

"Don't go around planning things behind my back grand-père. I know what you're trying to do. I refuse to be forced into choosing a husband at eleven. I know it all worked out for mother and grandmother, but I can pick a boy in my own time."

 _'So much defiance from such a tiny witch.'_ Alphard thought in amusement.

"Yes, my dear, but I believe I never said anything about an arrangement of the sort." he replied, watching as his granddaughter narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion. "I simply want the best for you is all." he continued

"What are you planning, grand-papa?" his granddaughter asked, with a knowing look.

"Nothing, my dear, nothing at all."

Hermione shot him a disbelieving look, aware that her grandfather was keeping something from her. The question being, " _What?"_

 **Paris, August 31, 1991**

Hermione Dagworth-Granger sat on her bed, watching Mimi pack her trunk with books and robes, and everything else, deep in thought, with her hair in a plait down her back.

She had tried to pry the truth out of her grandfather the whole summer, wanting to extract the secret he was keeping tightly shut in his mouth, but he had not cracked. In the end giving up altogether, knowing when to admit defeat when faced with it.

She _was_ excited of course, Hogwarts was rumored to be one of the best places to practice magic in the world, she had already gone through _Hogwarts: A History_ more times than she could count, and had already read through most of the assigned text for the year. Her mother had also made her acquainted with the list of pureblood children in her year, along with the professors teaching at the school.

She gripped her wand in her right hand, rolling it over her palm, vinewood, the wand maker had told her, and dragon heartstring, "A powerful wand, for a powerful witch." Ollivander had said. He had cautioned her greatly, regarding its misuse, because dragon heartstring wands tended to be the easiest to turn to Dark Arts, this knowledge filled her with a buzzing feeling that excited her and scared her at the same time.

No one had recognized her in Diagon Alley, of course. She had not been to England since she was an infant, she was not expecting anyone to realize who she was, because most of them, herself included had been trying to get a look at the Chosen One as he walked through the alley, stepping out of the Leaky in the middle of the day. The whispers in the crowd were hard to ignore, and she had snuck a peek at the boy before her mother led her away.

She had not understood when she saw him. He was just a boy, scrawny, and slouching, in clothes that looked as if they were three sizes too big and glasses held together by a piece of muggle adhesive. He was walking next to a hulking beast of a man, a half-giant, her mother had whispered in disdain. Hermione could just barely see the scar peeking out from his unruly hair. _Doesn't he know any glamour charms?_ she had wondered.

She saw him enter Madame Malkins, disappearing inside.

"Lyra? Lyra Black?" A voice called out from behind them.

Both Hermione and her mother turned around slowly. Her mother had a dainty eyebrow raised, lips pursed. She had gone for the strict teacher look today, her hair pulled tightly in a tidy chignon, unlike her daughter's whose dark hair flowed freely down her shoulders, each curl defined to perfection, though not losing its wild manner. Hermione hung back, behind her mother, as was proper.

 _"Oui?"_ her mother had replied, forgetting she was not in France.

"Why, Lady Black, it seems as if you have forgotten me." the man said with a smirk. He was pureblood, that much she could tell, from his white blonde hair pulled back with a silk ribbon, to his piercing grey eyes directed at her mother. He was clad in black robes and wielded a walking stick in his right hand, the top a silver snake, it seemed to be one of those wand holders that once were all the rage in Paris.

"That's Lady Dagworth-Granger to you, Lord Malfoy." Hermione's mother replied with just as much contempt as the man's. _Malfoy._ So this man was her uncle.

"Of course, my apologies, my Lady, it has been too long." Lucius Malfoy bowed his head in respect as Lyra returned it with a small bow of her own.

"Oh, don't bother Lucius, you're acting like I'm my mother. I still remember you trying to charm my skin purple back in fourth year, you know." her mother had said abruptly with a charming smile.

Luicius laughed, returning the smile, which seemed like an odd sight on his severe features "Can you believe it's been so long? My own son is heading to Hogwarts now."

"It's true, I feel as old as Walburga, honestly." Lyra laughed. "Oh, how silly of me. This is my Hermione, she's off to Hogwarts this year too."

The eleven year old stepped forward, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lord Malfoy." she said with her head bowed.

When she looked up, Lucius was smiling at her, but his eyes were calculating, and looking right through her. "The pleasure is mine, my dear." he replied, then turned to face Lyra once again. "She looks just as beautiful as her I would expect nothing less from the Blacks."

"I'm flattered. That reminds me though, how is my dear cousin? I hope you haven't driven her mad yet." her mother joked.

"No, not yet, thank Merlin. She's currently accompanying Draco to get his robes fit. I had business of my own to see to."

"Oh, my! Hector! We were supposed to meet him ten minutes ago for our Portkey." Lady Dagworth-Granger realized. "I'm sorry to cut this meeting short, Lucius, perhaps we will see each other again at the platform?"

"Yes, of course, Narcissa and I are sending Draco off." Lucius said with a smile. "See you then, my Lady." letting them leave before turning towards the direction of Madame Malkin's

"That Luicius Malfoy, quite the charmer. We used to be very close you know." her mother had told her as they walked.

"Close?" Hermione asked with a raised brow, looking up at her mother with a smirk.

"Not like that you silly girl. We were prefects for Slytherin together, of course we were close." she saud, rolling her eyes at her daughter.

"Of course, Maman." she replied with a giggle.

 **King's Cross Station, September 1, 1991**

Now, she walking alongside her parents, her father leading the way, levitating her trunk behind them as they maneuvered their way into the crowd at Platform 9 3/4. They stopped in front of the scarlet train's doors, her mother pulling her into an embrace, while her father looked down at the two most important ladies in his life.

"Now, it's Slytherin or nothing, remember, bébé. Don't go cavorting with anyone who does not deserve you, and do your best in your classes. Your father expects to see you at the top, darling, don't forget that." Lyra stressed for the nth time since leaving Paris, the worry of being separated from her only child making her nervous.

"Yes, Maman, I will make you and Papa proud, don't you worry. I'm a Dagworth-Granger, remember? A Black too. I'm nothing but the best." she said with a twinkle in her eyes as she hugged her mother, wanting to stay in her embrace forever.

"Too right, cheri. Now off you go, we don't want the train leaving you do we?" her father had said, in finality, breaking the two apart.

Hermione turned to face her grandfather, who was looking down at her with a proud smile. "Now remember, keep your temper in check, and don't show off too much, all right? You're far more advanced than the rest of those children, but learn to restrain yourself. It's best not to bring attention to yourself. Practice your wandwork when you can, and remember the spells I taught you, alright?"

"Yes, grandfather." she said, smiling.

"Well, goodbye for now, child." the old man said, patting her head.

"Goodbye, Papa, Goodbye, Maman, see you at Christmas." she said, before disappearing into the train.

Her trunk was heavy, heavier than an eleven year old girl could possibly carry, she tried pulling, it did not move, she tried pushing, nothing. The train had already began to move, and she was miserably out of her element. She swore in French, kicking at the thing, knowing that if her mother had heard her, she would have been sent into her room to think about what a proper lady should have said.

"Do you need help?" came from behind her.

 _"Oui, still vous plait."_ she said, before realizing she had spoken in French. "I mean, yes, please, if it isn't too much trouble." she turned around to face, not one but two tall red heads looming over her.

' _Weasley. Pureblood.'_ she took note of the two boys. Her mother had not said very kind words about their family, but Hermione wanted to decide for herself.

Red hair, green eyes, and spattering of freckles across the nose.

"Well, well, mademoiselle. Since you asked twice…" they took her trunk with ease, entering a carriage and stowing it.

"Fred and George Weasley, at your service." the two bowed, eliciting a giggle from the girl.

"Hermione Dagworth-Granger, thank you very much." she said, deciding the two were alright.

"Well, if that's all Miss Dagworth-Granger," Fred said, "We'll leave you to it." George finished.

She nodded her head at them and took a seat, taking a book out of her trunk, and made herself comfortable. Though before she could begin reading, she was interrupted by a dark haired boy with a face that could only be described as pudgy.

"Excuse me, have you seen a toad anywhere?" the boy said with a stutter in his voice.

Hermione raised a brow at the boy, who flushed under her gaze. "Have you lost your familiar?"

"Yeah, Trevor, he always wanders off." the boy said sheepishly. Hermione smiled, a small wave of pity taking over, "I'll help you find him then. I'm Hermione, by the way."

"Will you really? Wow, thanks! I'm Neville. Neville Longbottom." he said with a brilliant grin.

 _'Longbottom. Pureblood.'_ she thought.

"Nice to meet you Neville. Now let's go find your toad."

"Have you boys seen a toad anywhere?" she said abruptly, throwing the doors of the carriage open.

Two boys were huddled together, a pile of sweets in between them, the red headed boy had his wand raised and a rat in his other hand.

 _'Another Weasley? How many of them are there?'_

Hermione looked at the other boy, only then realizing who he was.

 _'Harry Potter.'_ he was still in his ratty clothes, and his glasses had not been repaired since the last time she'd seen him.

She faced the Weasley again, "Are you going to do magic? Show us then!" she said, genuinely enthusiastic.

The redhead shrugged, chanting "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow! **"**

Nothing happened. The rat struggled a little in the boy's grip. Hermione smothered the initial reaction to laugh.

"Were you trying to change his coloring?" she asked, the boy nodded "I have a spell for that can I have a go?"

"Alright, but be careful, don't hurt Scabbers." he said.

She smiled, and took out her wand with a flourish, and tapped the rat on the head, while saying _"Colovaria."_

Almost immediately, the rat began to shift, the dirty grey of his fur starting to shift into a bright sunshine yellow. Hermione grinned proudly, only to find Weasley staring at her with narrowed eyes.

"Blimey, where'd you learn that?" it was the first thing Harry Potter had said to her, his voice laced in awe.

"I was trained by a tutor growing up." she smiled, choosing not to expound, since children usually weren't allowed to practice magic before turning eleven. "I'm Hermione Dagworth-Granger."

"Harry Potter." the boys said, extending his hand, Hermione blushed, ladies do not shake hands. She took it anyways, albeit uncomfortably. "This is Ron Weasley." he gestured to the boy next to him. Hermione found the redhead scowling at her, nothing at all like his brothers.

Her smile faltered.

"You look like a Black." was all he said.

She nodded proudly. "My mother is Lyra Black."

She was met with silence. She glared at Weasley, who had started to scowl at her again.

"Well," Harry cleared his throat, "We haven't seen a toad, but we'll be sure to tell you if we do."

Hermione smiled tightly at him and muttered a small thank you, leaving the carriage. But before she could close the doors, she heard Weasley speak, "She's a bad sort, mate. Her family's all Dark Wizards, don't want to get caught up in their claws."

She turned abruptly, eyes burning in anger, slamming the doors with a loud bang.

When she'd calmed down a bit, she stopped in front of the next carriage, taking a deep breath. "Hello, have you seen a toad? A boy's lost his familiar." she said sweetly to the occupants of the carriage.

As soon as she'd seen them she had recognized each and everyone of them.

 _Pureblood._

 _Parkinson, Greengrass, Nott. Zabini. Goyle. Crabbe. Malfoy._

The air was practically fogged up with privilege and pedigree. Now this, she could deal with. The group stared back at her, appraising her, taking in her robes that were certainly not ready made, and the solid silver buckles on her shoes. She could practically see them trying to give her a name, just like she had all named them.

For the second time that day, she raised her brow, this time, in challenge. "I asked you a question." she said, voice full of contempt and dripping in obviously fake sweetness.

"Who's asking?" the dark hair girl said, Parkinson, she had a flower name, Posie, maybe? Her lips were curled in a snarl, her eyes narrowed to slits, not exactly a good look. ' _Pity_ ** _,'_** Hermione thought, ' _she would have been pretty had she not been a little pug faced.'_

"I'd have thought you'd figured it out." she replied, her voice calm and condescending. The other girl fair haired girl next to her, Greengrass, was a bit more collected, she had a small smile on her lips but her blue eyes gave away that she was thinking, trying hard to connect the dots.

"You look like a Black." this came from Blaise Zabini, who was smirking at her. Hermione tried to decide if he was flirting or if that was just his face. His mother had been, after all, one of the most beautiful women in England.

She shrugged in response, reciprocating the boy's smirk, the boy smiled then, a real one, telling her he was amused. She could see Theodore Not attempting to piece together a picture and failing, the two oafs next to him didn't even appear to be trying.

She turned to Draco Malfoy, who had his arms crossed in front of him, a knowing smirk on his lips.

"Bonjour, cousine"

Hermione smiled, "Vous êtes injuste. Bien sûr, vous me connaissez." _That's unfair. Of course you know who I am._

"Never met you have I?" he said, with a brow raised, mirroring her own.

Theodore had kept up quite well, as had Daphne, pleasing Hermione that they had at least adequate knolwedge of French.

"Oi, you planning to tell us who she is, then?" Zabini said, glaring at the blonde boy.

"Everyone, my cousin, Hermione Dagworth-Granger." Draco grinned. "Hermione, this is Pansy, Daphne, Theodore, Blaise, Greg, and Vince."

Hermione smiled, "Hello."

"Greg, Vince, could you find the trolley then? Get us a couple of chocolate frogs." the boy ordered, as if speaking to a house elf. Hermione expected the two to tell him to shove off, instead they stood, and without question, left to find the trolley, leaving a considerable amount of space to sit. So Draco had already assumed his place, where did that leave her?

"Would you like to sit down Hermione?" Daphne asked, gesturing to the space next to her where Gregory had just vacated, next to Theodore Nott.

"Thank you." she said, sitting down. She looked at the girl next to her, it was only right to say that she was beautiful, with fair hair and blue eyes that reminded her of her grand-mere, if she was this charming at eleven, one could expect that, in a few years, she would be the next Elora Zabini.

"Why haven't we heard of you before?" Pansy asked, still irked.

"I live in France, I haven't been to London since i was very young. My grandfather Alphard decided to relocate right after I was born." she said simply, knowing that they would know what she meant. Her family had not been a part of the war.

"Alphard Black?" Zabini asked, intrigue written on his face.

"Yes, that's how Draco and I are cousins." she said, letting them come to terms with her declaration. It was common knowledge that Alphard Black had inherited the Black family fortune, along with all the rights as head if house, and that being said made her heiress to the largest vault in Gringotts in the history of the Wizarding world.

Draco just shook his head at them "My father saw you some days ago, it's a shame we didn't get to meet."

"Quite. It's a pity you had to wait to be able to be in my presence." she shot back immediately, seeing his eyes widen marginally, almost imperceivable. Hermione almost smiled. It seems Narcissa Black had taught her son just as well as her mother had taught her, leaving no room for error.

Blaise barked out a laugh, "Oh, I like you." he said firmly, a lazy grin sinking into his face. Hermione was reminded of the stories her grandfather told her of her Uncle Sirius when she was a child, easy going, charming, loud, and acted as if the world owed him something, this seemed fit her new classmate to a tee.

"Isn't your father Hector Dagworth-Granger of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?" Theodore had spoken for the first time since she had arrived, and from his question, she knew he was well read.

"Yes, he is. Do you know of him?" she asked, seeing that the boy brightened considerably when she had confirmed his wondering. The conversation around them filtered back into talk about the sorting, as they talked about Jeremiah Higgs, the most recent addition to her father's society, who had new theories about a super-potion derived from Wolfsbane that could be a possible cure for lycanthropy.

"Have any of you met Potter yet?" Pansy Parkinson asked, interrupting the pair's conversation. Hermione tensed, which of course the others saw almost immediately. She sighed, forced to explain under five pairs of curious eyes.

"I met them earlier, right before I met you. He was with another boy, the younger Weasley." she recounted, her voice taking on a tone of subtly masked disdain, the others nodded, aware of the blood traitor in their year. "Weasley was trying to change his rat's color with the most ridiculous spell I've ever heard. Of course, I changed it with a simple Color Charm. Potter seemed alright though, more muggle than wizard, honestly, but the Weasley boy was just awful, started talking about Blacks not being the _'right sort'_ of wizard." she huffed again, still annoyed with the stupid boy.

"Weasley's already tainted him then. Too bad, Draco, we know your father wanted you to get to know him." Zabini said, looking at the blonde boy who seemed to be deep in thought.

"I'll try talking to him before the sorting, maybe the Weasel hasn't poisoned him too much." he said, obviously thinking of how to get Potter on his side.

"Hermione, sit with us!" Daphne called out as the curly haired girl tried to find an empty boat. She spotted the girl calling out to her and joined them, noticing that a black haired girl sat across from her, looking like she was a bit too big to be a first year. "Hermione this is Millie Bulstrode." the blonde witch said, as Hermione nodded her hello. The Bulstrodes were a good enough family, though not very well known and not the most pristine according to lineage, but Hermione could look that over, of course.

The rest of the boat ride was spent in silent anticipation, each of them worrying about the sorting, though none of them were doubting where they wanted to be placed. Millie seemed to be worrying the most out of all of them, not looking into their eyes, instead, just focusing on her shoes. As soon as their feet were back on solid ground, the large girl had shuffled off, muttering her goodbye.

Hermione followed the crowd of first years into the caste, falling into step with a familiar brown haired boy, "Hey Neville, did you find Trevor? I'm sorry I couldn't find him for you." she said truthfully, regretting that she had become side tracked so easily.

"It's nothing, Hagrid found him when we got off the train at the station." he said, holding up the toad, which let out a single croak in response.

"That's nice." she said, seeing that the doors were approaching, "Well, good luck with the sorting. I better go up front so I can hear what the Professor's saying."

She walked quickly to the front of the line, appearing right as Draco sauntered up to Harry Potter, smirk in place. Hermione winced, he wasn't making this any easier for himself. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but Potter's face looked as if he had just stepped on something unpleasant, Ron was wearing his scowl again.

Hermione hastily tried to ease the tension between the three boys, walking up to Draco setting a hand on his shoulder, warning him to back down, a bright smile on her face, "Hi, Harry!" she had expected at least a greeting in return from the boy, not the cold look that passed from him to the Weasel, as the glared pointedly at her hand on Draco's shoulder, as if it were a severed limb. She quickly withdrew it from where it was, keeping the smile plastered on her face "See you inside, then."

She steered Draco away from the situation, noticing that a small circle had formed around the group, and guided him back to their small group.

"Calm down, cousin. A half blood and a blood traitor aren't worth your anger." she soothed.

He breathed out, "You're right." just as a witch in professor's robes strode out to meet them, ushering them in with a sweeping gesture, her robes billowing in the air. This was Professor McGonagall, Daphne whispered, the head of Gryffindor house, and Deputy Headmistress. The witch led the group of first years into the Great Hall, where they were met with a brilliant sky above them. They passed the house tables, heading straight for the middle of the hall, where on a stool sat the Sorting Hat, looking worn and old. As they walked by Gryffindor table, she saw the Weasley twins from earlier and sent a small smile they way, even if their brother was a prat, she was not an ungrateful person.

Professor McGonagall started the Sorting, the first of the group was placed in Hufflepuff House, a girl named Abott, who scurried of quickly, blushing under the attention. Soon, the professor was calling Vince, who was sorted into Slytherin, as expected.

"DAGWORTH-GRANGER, HERMIONE MIRA BLACK" Professor McGonagall called, her name longer than anyone else on the list. The small girl left the group, head held high, feeling a hundred eyes on her as she placed the hat on her head.

 _"Hello Miss Dagworth-Granger, quite a long name you have there."_ The hat croaked out.

"The longer the name the purer the blood." she whispered under her breath, a phrase her mother used to tell her when she was a child, complaining about writing her name.

 _"Very Slytherin of you, Miss."_ Hermione's heart swelled, beating rapidly against her chest. _"A good amount of ambition in you, too, as well as cunning, loyalty like no other, and power, so much for such a small witch, but you have the heart of a lion in you…_

Hermione almost laughed aloud. The hat, sensing her disbelief, pressed on… " _But Gryffindor would serve you well, I sense bravery within you, a fair amount of determination too…"_

 ** _"_** You better not, or else you might find yourself at the bottom of the lake." she growled silently.

 _"Ho,ho! Well then, if it's Slytherin you wish, so shall it be. SLYTHERIN!"_

Hermione hopped off the stool with a knowing smile, ignoring the scowl she received from Weasley, and the smirk Draco threw her way. Making her way to the Slytherin table, she was greeted by the upperclassmen, as she made her way towards the very end, and sat herself across Vincent.

Tracey Davis joined them immediately after her, she was a brunette too, but her eyes were a bright green, and her smile too open to be a pureblood. Hermione acknowledged her with a polite hello, and continued watching the sorting. Goyle came after, sitting down heavily next to Crabbe, then Daphne, who took the seat next to her, Draco was the next Slytherin to be sorted, the hat had barely even touched his head before shouting out "SLYTHERIN". Theodore Nott came right after, sitting next to Draco, then came Pansy, who, seeing that Theodore had taken her preferred seat, grumpily sat next to Daphne. The last of all students to be sorted was Blaise, who sauntered up to the hat, fixing his hair before setting it on top of his head. When the hat had shouted out Slytherin, the boy quickly took it off, running a hand through his hair again, smiling at the room obnoxiously, before making his way towards the Slytherin table.

The group noted with narrowed eyes, that Potter and Weasley had both been sent to Gryffindor, what had Hermione worried though, was the fact that the two boys now sat across Neville Longbottom, whispering amongst themselves, Neville glanced at the Slytherin table, catching Hermione looking at him curiously, and tensed, turning abruptly. Hermione sighed, well, there goes inter-house unity.


	3. Chapter 3: Nouveau Slytherin

Pansy, Daphne, and Hermione found themselves walking to the dungeons from the Great Hall, chatting about their new professors. The prefects were at the front of the herd, leading them towards their common room. The deeper they went into the castle, the darker it got, the only light being the eerie glow of the magic lit lamps casting shadows on the walls.

The group stopped in front of a large portrait of a man in a green turban with a flute in between his lips, a woven basket set in front of him. They watched as the man began to play, the top of the basket slowly rising to reveal a silvery snake. _"Password?"_ the snake hissed.

The prefect in front of them, Higgs, she remembered, a boy with sandy hair and oddly kind eyes for a Slytherin, raised his voice to them. "The password is _Sanguinem vincit omnia,_ it changes every fortnight so be sure to pick up the password from you House prefects. _"_

The portrait slid aside as the wall behind it parted, and Hermione stifled a giggle, thinking _'How utterly Slytherin.'_ The group walked onwards into the passage that had opened in front of them, a green light at the end of the tunnel the only thing guiding there way.

Daphne had taken her hand, Hermione spared a glance to the girl, seeing that she had gone from cheery and laughing to anxious. They reached the end of the passage, and were met by a multitude of green and silver, _Slytherin monochrome._ The group inspected their common room for the first time, most of them finding it acceptable. A l couch sat facing a large fireplace, the flames glowing green, with windows on either side, looking out into Merlin knows what, because Hermione was sure that it wasn't the castle grounds. For a brief moment, she thought she saw a flash of fish scales, but she brushed it off as a trick of the light. Later on, she would discover that they were, in fact, fish scales, for their common room had a magical view into the Black Lake.

All around the room were small tables and armchairs, a few study desks and suits of armor standing guard. The furniture was tasteful and elegant, her mother would have approved, and the entire feel of the room was comforting, to her at least. She knew she should have felt cold, but the dampness of the dungeons had been magically taken away, leaving a comfortable warmth surrounding them all.

"Now, all of you listen up." Terence Higgs called out. "You lot are Slytherin now, and that means upholding all beliefs of Salazar Slytherin. People expect great things from you, and you will do your best to meet those expectations, no matter what. We upper years are here for questions, but try to get the answers on your own. Your timetables will be given to you tomorrow morning. Breakfast is served in the Great Hall at 7:30. Classes begin at 9:00. Observe curfew, and don't get in trouble. Girls, your dorms are along the corridor on the left, boys, on the right. That is all."

The three girls quickly went on their way, Hermione hurriedly taking a bed by the window, seeing that her trunk had already been brought up, placed on the foot of her bed. The beds were once again adorned in green, as were the curtains, that shifted into silver when moved. Daphne had taken the bed to her right, Tracey to her left, which left Pansy in the far right, and Millicent opposite to her, nearest to the door.

The girls were silent as they began emptying their trunks, arranging their belongings in the cabinets beside their beds. Hermione set aside her school things, placing them in a new canvas bag with her initials embroidered in the center. She folded her clothes, placing them neatly into drawers, hanging up her school robes. Finally, she had taken out a set of dress robes that her mother insisted she bring, for what, she didn't know. They were a pale shade of blue silk, lined in gold stitching, she hung it up, along with a matching dress.

"Oh, you brought dress robes too?" Daphne asked, noticing the curly haired witch. "My mother made me bring mine along, said that there would be a need for them later in the year."

Hermione smiled politely, already busy wondering what the event could be if it required the use of fine clothing. She stripped off her robes, and began getting ready for bed, brushing out her hair, the charms her mother had placed on it disappearing. She padded back to her bed, in silver pajamas and house slippers, slipping into the covers. Pansy was sitting on Daphne's bed, giggling while the blonde witch rolled her eyes. "Admit it Daph, Terrence is fit."

"He's a fourth year, Pans, he wouldn't give you the time of day. He's too good looking for you anyway."

Hermione smirked into her pillow, amused. She had never been one for boy talk. Pansy lightly hit the other girl on the shoulder at being insulted, and continued giggling. Hermione drew her curtains closed, and settled into the bed, ignoring the endless giggles, and nodded off to sleep.

She walked into the great hall after a grueling experience of trying to replicate her mother's hair charms to perfection, a few minutes to spare before breakfast. The rest of the girls had already left by the time she was finished, leaving her to walk the way from the dungeons alone.

"Here's your time table." Theodore said as she approached them, smiling at her with kind green eyes as he handed her a piece of parchment when she had taken the seat next to him.

"Thank you." she said, glancing at it briefly before scooping up a helping of scrambled eggs and bacon.

"So, Hermione, what's -" Theodore started to say, but was cut off by the head that had appeared in the middle of their table. The boy yelped in surprise, and would've tumbled out of his seat had Hermione not grabbed hold of him.

"Good morning, Baron." she said to the specter as he begun to float upwards. The ghost faced her, "Good? What's good about it?" he muttered darkly before floating away.

Theodore was staring at her like he'd just seen a ghost, which he had. "How the hell are you so bloody calm?"

"Language, Theodore." she scolded. "They're ghosts, not a big deal. There are scarier things than dead people, you know."

The boy next to her mumbled something she almost didn't catch, a faint flush appearing on his cheeks. "Theo. Call me Theo."

The witch smiled at him and nodded, turning to face the rest of the table who were busy either talking about flying lessons later in the week, or their next class, Transfiguration with the Ravenclaws.

"Do you play Quidditch, Hermione?: Blaise had asked her from across the table.

"Merlin, no. I hate flying." she said, nose scrunched up in disdain.

"Maybe you just don't know how." Draco said with a condescending smirk.

She rolled her eyes at the boy, "Of course I know how, don't be daft, I'm a witch, after all. I'm just worried about falling."

"Falling's's half the fun!" Blaise exclaimed in disbelief. "I don't know how anyone wouldn't like flying."

The rest of breakfast went on with them trying to convince her of the wonders of flying, annoying her to no end. When it was time for classes, she was relieved at being able to escape them.

Professor McGonagall was a severe witch who did not like talking in her class, and seemed to be suspicious of every little thing her students were doing, or maybe it was just because they were Slytherin. She was efficient, very much so, as Hermione had spent the class taking notes and already had a couple or so feet of parchment written down.

At the end of the lecture, the professor had each given them a match, and instructed them to apply the lesson to turn the match into a needle. Hermione got to work quickly, already familiar with the subject from her readings. Daphne was sitting next to her, brows pulled together in concentration, repeating the incantation, but the match had remained as it was.

Hermione tried the spell herself, succeeding in creating a small metal stick. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Crabbe mutter the spell incorrectly, lighting the match on fire. He looked on hopelessly as it burned into a pile of ash on his desk.

She tried again, this time, the silver more defined, and one end had tapered into a sharp tip. She grinned, then tried to create the eye of the needle.

This went on for a few more minutes before McGonagall cleared her throat, calling an end to the exercise, inspecting the work of each student. When she got to Hermione, the professor almost smiled, picking up the needle and showing it to the class, congratulating the little witch. The girl bloomed under the praise, and left the room with a grin.

Her classes had so far passed her expectations, they weren't so basic as to bore her, although she had already gone through most of the curriculum with her grandfather in the previous years. Charms with Flitwick was by far her favorite, Defence Against the Dark Arts was a sad let down, owing to their professor being a trembling, stuttering mess. They had yet to experience Potions with Snape, but what the witch dreaded the most was the next class of the day.

All first years had a compulsory flying course, taught by Madam Hooch, who had instructed the class to stand by a broomstick. They shuffled off, falling into two separate lines, Gryffindors facing Slytherins, each with a broom at their feet.

"Stick your right hand over your broom," the witch called at the front, "and say, 'Up!'"

"UP!" Hermione said, with less enthusiasm than everyone else. Her broom floated up but wavered midway, dropping to the grass with a soft thud. The second time she tried, it was better. The broom flew up into her hand, albeit slowly, not like Harry Potter's which had shot up the moment he had said the order. She grumbled at not being the best at something, noticing Draco was brandishing the broom on his hand quite proudly. That is, until Madam Hooch had told him that he had been doing it wrong for years.

The blonde scowled at the teacher, but fixed his grip nonetheless, flushing in embarrassment. He didn't fail to notice Potter and Weasley hiding their laughter at him being corrected, and Hermione noted the dangerous glint in his eye as he focused his scowl onto the two boys.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, kick off from the ground hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and come straight back down. On my whistle - three - two-"

But before Madam Hooch could even bring the whistle to her lips, Neville had pushed off hard, rising straight up, going farther and farther up until he was at least twenty feet into the air. Their teacher was yelling at the boy to come down, but either he didn't hear her, or had no control whatsoever.

Suddenly, the pale faced boy slipped sideways off the broom, landing with a horrible crack. They approached the boy, who was lying facedown in the grass, groaning in pain. Hermione heard their teacher mutter, "Broken wrist, come boy, we've got to get you to Madam Pomfrey."

The games keeper turned to the rest of the class, "No one is allowed to move until I get back, is that clear?" The two walked off into the castle, with Neville clutching his arm as tears streamed down his face.

As soon as they were out of sight, Draco erupted in a fit of laughter, Hermione glared at him, but he was busy making fun of the boy. "Did you see his face?" The other Slytherins guffawed and began joining in, mocking the way Neville had groaned in pain.

"Shut up, Malfoy." A girl from Gryffindor snapped, one of the Patil twins.

Pansy laughed, "Sticking up for Longbottom, Parvati? Didn't think that you'd like the pudgy crybaby type." she said snidely.

"What do we have here?" Draco said, noticing a shiny orb in the grass. "It's the loser's Remembrall."

"Give that to me, Malfoy." Potter said quietly to the smirking blonde.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for him to find. Like a treasure hunt. How does up a tree sound? Or on one of the towers?"

"Draco." Hermione warned, her voice soft enough to be heard only by Draco. He glanced at her for a second, but turned his attention back on Harry, ignoring the girl completely.

"Give it here!" Potter had yelled, but Draco was already in the air, proving to the class that he was actually a good flyer. The blond hovered over a nearby tree, waving the orb in hill hand, "Get it if you can, Potter!" he taunted.

The bespectacled boy mounted his broom, and kicked off, and Hermione anxiously watched him fly up to Malfoy, his face set in determination and anger. The two boys zoomed in the air, Potter was actually a talented flying, considering that he had never flown on a broom before. The two were yelling at each other, their words indiscernible to the students on the ground. Suddenly, Draco threw the Remembrall high into the air, then hastily made his way back to the ground. Potter dove down, gathering speed, and just as the ball was about to hit the ground, caught it and swerved up, face beaming in triumph,

"HARRY POTTER!"

All of them turned to face a red faced McGonagall running towards them, the class all craned their heads forward, trying to hear what the professor was saying to the boy who had landed back on the ground, looking sheepish. Then, she grabbed potter by the collar, and the two walked back into the castle, the woman still muttering under her breath.

Draco, who stood behind her next to Crabbe and Goyle barked out a laugh, "He'll be scrubbing cauldrons in detention for weeks!" he said gleefully.

When Hermione had arrived at the dinner table from the library, she immediately noticed the grey storm cloud hovering over it. Taking a seat next to Daphne, she turned to ask what had happened when Draco said, "Have you heard? Saint Potter got on the Gryffindor quidditch team."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What? But I thought first years weren't allowed?"

"McGonagall pulled some strings for the Chosen One, of course." he snapped angrily. "He isn't even that good!" The boy went on to rant about Potter, ruining dinner for the entire table. Finally, as they were finishing, Hermione decided that she couldn't take it anymore.

"It's your fault, anyways. If you hadn't baited him into flying, he wouldn't have been caught by the professor. So shut up already." she snapped, getting up in a huff, leaving him to glare at her as she walked away.

Daphne found her in their common room, legs folded under her, with a book in her hands. The blonde witch quickly took a seat next to her, a worried look in her face. "Hermione, you won't believe what just happened." she said. "Draco went up to Potter and Weasley just after you left and challenged him to a wizard's duel! They're doing it at midnight."

Hermione snorted. "So? It's not my business what Prince Draco does in his spare time. What's the worst they could do? A couple of tickling jinxes and stinging hexes and they're done."

"What if they get caught? They'd get in trouble and think of all the house points they'll lose us! Oh, Hermione, you have to stop him!" Daphne replied.

The curly haired witch bit her lip, arguing with herself, "Why don't you do it?"

"You and I both know Draco listens to you. Come on, Hermione."

"Alright, fine, I'll do it." she conceded with a sigh.

"You're a saint!" Daphne said, hugging her. "Now let's go and do something fun, my mum sent me a box of new lip colors that I want to try out, you can tell me which ones look pretty!"

Hermione smiled at the girl, allowing herself to be pulled along. Even though make up didn't interest her, she was more than happy to watch her friend go crazy over it and give her opinion.

They had tried every color of lipstick in the parcel, the colors ranging from a sweet baby pink to the most ghastly shade of green. Daphne had manipulated her into trying on a bright orange color that looked like she had had too many glasses of pumpkin juice. They had cast a silencing charm over Daphne's bed, so they wouldn't wake up the rest of the girls with their giggling.

In the common room, the clock chimed twelve, and Hermione only then realize it had gotten so late. "Daph! It's midnight. I've got to go talk to Draco."

"Take that horrible lipstick off first." the witch said. She brushed the color off in a quick swipe, and hurried to them common room, catching Draco and Crabbe in the middle of sneaking out.

"Where do you two think you're going?" she said, hands on her hips.

"Why do you care? Want to save Potter, do you?" Draco sneered at her.

"Come off it, Draco." she said rolling her eyes. "You know as well as I do that you're going to get caught."

"So little faith in me." he said. "We won't get caught."

"Yes, you will, and you'll lose us points. Terrence won't be happy with you for it, and you'll get detention. Just leave Potter alone. Look, those Gryffindors don't have the brains to think that you'd trick them into wandering around the castle after curfew. Filch will catch them, and they'll be the only ones in trouble." she tried to reason.

Draco narrowed his eyes at her, she could see he was thinking about it, weighing down his options.

"Fine. Just this once, cousin." he said, waving his hand at Crabbe to go back to the dormitories. Draco followed, but as he passed her, he caught her wrist, "And don't ever talk to me like you did at dinner again, or you'll be sorry."

Hermione smirked at the boy, "I will talk to you anyway I see fit, Draco. You don't scare me."

The boy only glared at her in reply.


	4. Chapter 4: Raising Suspicion

To say that Draco was angry with her would be putting it lightly. When Potter and Weasley had show up in the Great Hall for breakfast the next day, he had scowled at her, "Remind me next time not to take advice from you." he snapped.

Hermione was having none of it, noticing the two boys looked worse for wear as they whispered to each other. They seemed to be talking about something important because both boys kept glancing around to see if anyone was listening to their conversation, and looking at the Headmaster. A creeping suspicion filled Hermione as she watched the two wizards, wondering what they could be talking about.

"They know something. Something must have happened last night." she said to Draco, trying to ease the tension between them.

"How do you know that?" he asked her, still with annoyance in his voice.

"They keep whispering and pointing at Professor Dumbledore. Potter can't seem to stop looking at the doors. They're hiding something."

"Well, if you're right, I want to find out what it is." he said, focusing his eyes on the Gryffindor table.

"Bloody hell." Blaise said out of nowhere, looking at the horde of owls that had just come swooping in.

"What is it?" asked the blonde witch sitting across from him, craning her next to try and see what the other boy was looking at.

"Look at that parcel over there, the one being carried by six owls. That's a broomstick! I wonder who's it for." he said in awe.

They all watched as the owls made their way for the Gryffindor table, coming to a stop at, of course, Harry Potter.

Draco and Blaise swore at the same time, glaring at the boy across the room, probably wishing the owls would start pecking him violently. Potter and Weasley both took the parcel and ran quickly out of the Hall, Draco, too, stood up, followed by Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Hermione resisted the urge to stop them, knowing that she had done enough to annoy Draco for the week, and left them to torment Potter in whatever way they saw fit. She turned to Daphne, who immediately wrapped her in a conversation she and Pansy were having about a Wizarding band called the Weird Sisters.

Hermione sat next to Draco in Potions, since Pansy had carted Daphne off to a corner of the room, and Blaise and Theo had paired up with each other. Their professor swooped into the room in a flurry of dark robes, and immediately started with roll call. He had paused at Potter's name, to say "Ah, yes, Harry Potter. Our new — _celebrity._ " Hermione and Draco both sniggered at their professor's obvious dislike towards the boy, relishing in the fact that not all their teachers were enamored by the Chosen One.

"Potter!" Snape had said, interrupting his own lecture, "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Hermione's arm was ready to shoot up to answer, like always, but she was restrained by a hand clutching her wrist, she faced Draco in confusion. "For once in you life, don't be such a swot and let Potter squirm." he whispered. She nodded and relaxed her arm, turning to look at the dark haired boy who had muttered, "I don't know, sir."

"Let's try again, shall we? Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Snape asked.

She held her hand back, smirking at the absent look on the boy's face. "I don't know, sir." he said again. Next to her, Draco was shaking with barely controlled laughter.

"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" the Potions professor asked one more time.

Hermione could almost see Harry bite back a snide remark, "I don't know sir."

"Pity." Snape said, turning to the rest of the room. "To anyone who possibly redeem this class by answering all three questions, I shall give a total of twenty points."

Draco turned to face her sharply, but her hand was already up, waiting to be called upon. "Yes, Miss Dagworth-Granger?" Snape asked in acknowledgement.

"Asphodel and wormwood, Sir, are used to create a powerful sleeping potion known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat, and it can be used as a cure to most poisons. While monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant, also known as aconite, which is the key ingredient to the Wolfsbane Potion." she recited from memory, thanking her father for his tutelage.

"Quite, Miss Dagworth-Granger, though, I suppose I could expect nothing less from you. Twenty points to Slytherin." her professor said. He then went on to put them into pairs, Hermione was a little worried at being paired with Draco, since she wasn't sure of his prowess in the subject, but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Snape then set them to mixing a potion to cure boils, simple enough.

To her delight, Draco was as meticulous at she was in preparing the ingredients. He would add and remove the needed amount of dried nettles until they weighed the exact amount specified, and crushed the snake fangs so finely that they could have been sold at an apothecary, when the professor had passed to inspect their work, he had nodded in approval, theirs being the only station he commented on positively, praising the way Hermione had stewed their horned slugs when acid green smoke stemmed from their cauldron. The two eleven year olds shared a high five under the table before carrying on their work.

They watched as Longbottom and Finnegan floundered to try and save their potion, for their cauldron had somehow begun to melt, the green potion seeping into the cracks on the floor and covering Longbottom in it. Draco laughed as Snape reprimanded them for their idiocy, his laughs becoming louder as boils began to appear all over his skin. Hermione looked on in worry and disbelief at how they could have messed up their potion so badly as to create a potion to create boils rather than cure them.

Snape ordered Finnegan to take the boy to the Hospital Wing, he then turned to Potter and Weasley, who were working next to the pair of boys. "Potter, why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought you'd look good if he got it wrong, eh? Another point from Gryffindor."

The boy being spoken to began to open his mouth to complain, looking indignant, but closed it almost immediately, turning to scowl at his partner. Snape called the class to an end after collecting vials of each potion, and the class began packing up.

"I can't believe it, it's so unfair. He gave points to Dagworth and Malfoy just because they're in Slytherin, I bet. They're potion couldn't have been as perfect as he said. I mean, no one else got it right, right?" Potter said loudly when the professor had exited the room. Both Hermione and Draco turned to face the boy in question, eyes blazing in anger, Draco moved to reply but Hermione beat him to it.

"Nothing in life is fair Potter, you're too used to being the Golden Boy that it's gotten into your enormous head. There are people who are more deserving than you are. You get glory just because of that scar on your head, we get it because we work for it. My father is the top leading Potioneer in all of Europe so don't bloody tell my potion wasn't perfect. And it's Dagworth-Granger to you." she spat, turning to leave so fast, her hair whipped around behind her. She hadn't even realized that Draco wasn't following her, so she was surprised when she turned to talk to him to find only Blaise and Theo behind her.

"He stayed back with Crabbe and Goyle." was all Theo said.

Blaise slung his arm over Hermione, grinning at her, "Don't listen to them, they're a _bunch of bumbling idiots_ , you heard Snape. Besides, everyone knows that everything you do is perfect. You're already top of the class, _and_ you've earned Slytherin half the points we have since classes started! Everyone except Potter knows that."

"I know that. It just irritates me that he gets special treatment and is allowed to break the rules. He's still a student, he's just like one of us." she complained.

"But he isn't one of us, is he?" Theo said somberly.

Hermione turned to him in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, he defeated the Dark Lord, he's basically untouchable, and we," he gestured to the three of them, " are Slytherin, Dark Witches and Wizards and all that shite."

"But we aren't!" Hermione exclaimed.

"They don't know that. For all they care, I'm the son of a Death Eater, Blaise's mother is a murderous leech, and you're a Black, who to be honest, aren't the sanest family in the Wizarding world." he said.

Hermione sighed, "I wish there was something we could do about it."

"The best thing to do is show them that we aren't who they think we are. Prove all of them wrong."

"That's easy, I'm already the top of our class." she said, winking at Blaise, who laughed.

"That's because you're a such bloody swot." Theo teased.

"Watch it. I'm a Black, you know, we're not the sanest family in the world." she said, laughing as the group of three headed to the Great Hall for lunch.

They were halfway through the meal when the three missing Slytherins walked into the Hall, Crabbe had the beginnings of a bruise blooming on his left eye, and Draco's hair had been messed up from its usual slicked back perfection, but other than that, they looked triumphant. Hermione bristled at the three of them.

"What did you do?" she asked, horrified.

"Oh, calm down, its nothing, right boys?" Draco said with a smirk as his two friends shrugged.

"What do you mean nothing? Crabbe has a black eye!" she screeched.

"Lower you voice, wont you? The professors might hear us." he said, sitting down in front of her.

"What happened to you, you poor thing?" Pansy cooed beside Draco. Hermione struggled not to cringe.

"I said, it's nothing. Just ran into a couple of idiots who didn't know how to keep their mouths shut."

"You didn't?" she said, not wanting to now the answer. She glanced quickly at the Gryffindor table where two boys were having trouble hiding their injuries, a few bruises showing on their faces. "Draco Abraxas Malfoy, what were you thinking!"

"You could be more grateful you know. The Weasel said some pretty nasty things when you left." he said, rolling his eyes at her, as if causing a brawl was something to be grateful for.

"Be that as it may, I fight my own battles, and I don't use brute force to do it either." she huffed. "I didn't know you were such a Gryffindor."

"Weasley started it. I was only returning the favor." he replied, as if justifying his actions.

"Whatever. Just eat or you'll be late for Charms." she and Daphne got up to leave, but before she turned away, she looked at the blonde, quietly saying, "Thank you." She did not see the bright smile that had appeared on his face as she and her friend walked away.

"That was a very nice thing to do, you know." Daphne said while they walked.

"His intentions were nice but I don't like violence." Hermione had said simply.

"Still, it was sweet of him."

"We're family, Daph, his father probably told him to watch over me."

"You're second cousins, it doesn't count." her friend said. "Besides, didn't Walburga Black marry her cousin?"

"Shut up, Daphne." Hermione said, not wanting to talk about it.

"Alright, alright. By the way, did you actually write two feet on Cheering Charms, or one and a half with, you know, really big handwriting?"

Hermione laughed, "I wrote three feet, excluding the references."

"Bloody hell, Hermione, you don't give it a rest, do you?" the blonde said, eyes wide at her admission.

"Language, Daph." was all she said in reply.

The professors had somehow been informed of the fight that had occurred in the dungeons, and somehow, their version of the story painted Draco as the instigator of the whole thing, and despite trying to say what really happened, he Crabbe, and Goyle had been sentenced to detention with Filch every night for the next two weeks. Draco had told his friends this at dinner, in a furious tone that made her wonder if he had already written his father.

Just when he was about to go into his fifteenth minute of complaining, Professor Quirrell sprinted into the hall, his face a mask of terror as he half yelled, half gasped at the professor's table, "TROLL! In the dungeons-troll!" before promptly slipping into a dead faint.

The Great Hall erupted in an uproar, students jumped out of their seats, a few girls screaming, Pansy being one of them as they went into a panic. Out of nowhere, purple sparks flew out of the Headmaster's wand, with a booming, "SILENCE!"

Everyone in the hall turned to look at the old professor. "Prefects, lead your House back to the dormitories immediately!"

Terence Higgs immediately shot up, ordering the Slytherins out of the door. They were herded by another prefect, Willow Farley, a blonde fifth year, and another boy. Daphne had taken Hermione's hand, pulling her along. The large group of Slytherins thundered through the castle halls, the prefects barking out the password to the common rooms immediately.

"No one is allowed to leave until further notice." Terrence called out to his house.

They made themselves comfortable in one of the corners of the room, Hermione already sitting on a large green love seat, said "How did a troll get into the castle? Aren't they supposed to be, well, trolls?"

"Someone must have let it in." pondered Theo.

"Who, though?" she asked.

"Maybe it was Potter. I mean, what if he has a hero complex and wants to save the day so he created his own villain?" Blaise suggested, Draco nodded his assent, agreeing to everything said against his enemy.

"How could an eleven year old lead a troll into the castle?" Daphne argued, not believing Potter could have done it.

"Ugh, why do you want to know who let it in? As long as someone gets rid of it, I'm alright." Pansy said, "Anyone up for a game of Exploding Snap?" her eyes were oddly fixated on Draco as she said this, Hermione noticed, but the blonde seemed oblivious to the dark haired witch, still deep in thought. Hermione took out a piece of parchment from her bag, the people around her left her alone, thinking she was doing a bit of revision, but with a quill, she wrote, in a practiced, elegant script, "Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, Neville Longbottom." then "Secret whispers." then "Troll in Hogwarts" then "Forbidden corridor"

It wasn't much to go by, but if anything, it was a start. Hermione's suspicions were on high alert, and she wanted to have them proven.

The next morning, the Great Hall was abuzz with gossip. Hermione sipped on her pumpkin juice as Pansy retold the story she heard from Tracey Davis, who heard from Marietta Edgecomb, who heard from Hannah Abott, who heard from Parvati Patel that Harry, Ron and Neville had defeated the mountain troll in one of the abandoned classrooms. Longbottom had lost his way to their common rooms, and when the two boys noticed they had gone after him. When the professors arrived, hearing the shouts, they found the three boys standing over the knocked out mountain troll.

Blaise smirked at Daphne, "Still dont believe Saint Potter let the troll in?"

"Of course not. If he let the troll in, he wouldn't have gotten that gash on his head from trying to knock it out." she reasoned. The two of them began bickering rapidly, Hermione ignored their arguing and turned her gaze to the boys of the moment, they looked fine to her, save for a coupe scratches and bruises here and there. Harry was flushing at the attention, as was Neville, but Ron seemed to be basking in it, loudly regaling the tale. She did not fail to notice that the three boys seemed to be sitting closer to each other, and she realized that they had bonded over the accident, they seemed to be smiling at each other more too.

With a sign, Hermione realized that they had taken Neville into their fold. ' _Pity,"_ she thought, _"I thought he would be a good friend."_

Hermione had chosen to sit out the first Quidditch match of the year, so she was the only one not decorated in Slytherin colors that morning at breakfast, she ignored the anxious chatting of her classmates, eyes on a book she had borrowed from the library, unaware of the goings on around her.

"Hermione!" someone had yelled into her ear.

She jumped in surprise. When she saw her friends chuckling at her expense she growled, "What?"

"Are you sure you don't want to watch the match with us?" Theo asked, with pleading eyes.

"No, I have to do a bit of advanced reading, and I like it when the library is empty." she said, still annoyed at being distracted.

"Alright, we're headed off then." he said, as the rest of the group stood to leave for the Quidditch pitch. She nodded her goodbye and quickly finished the last of her scrambled eggs. She was just about to leave when her Potions professor entered the Great Hall, robes billowing around him. She noticed he was walking with a limp, which was odd, because it hadn't been there yesterday.

Her professor noticed her looking at him, and said, "Anything I can help you with, Miss Dagworth-Granger?"

"No, Sir." she chirped back, quickly exciting the hall.

She glanced back at the man, trying to get a good look at his leg, because for a moment there, she thought she had seen bandages wrapped around it tinged with the scarlet color of blood.

"So you mean to tell me, someone cursed Potter's broom, causing it to spin out of control, almost throwing him off," Draco coughed, muttering something that sounded really close to _"Shame."_ Hermione ignored him. " _Then,_ Professor Snape's robe caught on fire, _then_ , Potter caught the Snitch with his _mouth_?"

The group nodded back at her almost comically. She laughed, "You're joking, right?" The group shook their heads.

She sat there, astounded. "Looks like I'll be at the next match, then." she said.

Next to her, Blaise let out a whoop of joy.


	5. Chapter 5: Home Again

Hermione found herself in a hidden corner of the library one night, behind a pile of bookshelves that gave her a faux sense of solitude. She wrote the last words of her Transfiguration essay with a flourish, and gave it a once over. Not completely satisfied, she stood to scout for another reference book on the topic of inanimate transfiguration.

On Friday nights like this one, she was usually the only one in the library, Theo only accompanied her a couple of days a week, saying that the weekends were not a time for studying. But tonight, another table was occupied at the far corner of the cavernous room. She could see three heads huddled over stacks of books, a bright flare of red hair next to two dark haired boys told her who exactly was sharing the library with her.

She eyed them curiously, wondering what they were doing in the library on a Friday, most especially. She barely saw any of them visit since the beginning of the year, Longbottom maybe a handful of times to brows the Herbology section, but never Potter or Weasley. The three stood abruptly, walking to on of the bookshelves, sticking to each other like they were chained together.

She took the opportunity that had presented itself to her, quickly walking over to their table, taking note of the books that were piled on top of one another. She moved over a quill that had been obscuring a piece of parchment, only to find a name scribbled on it in scratchy handwriting.

 _'Nicolas Flamel.'_

Hermione knew the name of course, her father had once had the man and his wife over for dinner. One couldn't be in her father's society if he didn't know who was practically the most esteemed alchemist of all. She heard the shuffling of footsteps echo from the direction the boys had gone, and scampered off, a doze thoughts going through her head.

Returning to her little nook, she took out the piece of parchment she had since kept tucked into the pages of her journal, the goings on during the last quid ditch match had been listen down, and now, she wrote under that - _Nicolas Flamel, (Philosopher's Stone?)_

The witch gathered her things, Transfiguration essay forgotten, and turned to leave, as she passed the group of boys, who had taken their seats once again, she stopped, looking at the pudgy faced boy whose cheeks had flushed under her gaze, "Hi Neville, what are you doing here so late?" she asked sweetly, ignoring the two other boys.

"Why do you care?" Weasley spat at her, before the boy could even reply.

"Well, Weasley, I like to think of Neville as a friend." she said simply, smiling at Neville, who flushed a deeper red.

"He doesn't think of _you_ , as a friend, don't you, Neville? So you can just shove off to do whatever dark magic you're up to." the red head snapped. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to refrain from making a snide retort.

"Leave it, Ron." Neville said, surprising everyone, even her, which filled her with a warm glow, "She's never done anything to me."

Ron looked at him incredulously. "But she's mean to us! I mean, we _are_ your friends, right? You should be on our side! Besides she's a Slytherin, we're supposed to hate her."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Not everything's so black and white, Weasley." she said snottily. "And may I remind you that you were the first one of the both of us to insult me? I never did anything to you to warrant your rudeness."

"You're a Dark Arts obsessed blood purist bitch with a handful of Galleons stuck up your arse." he growled, standing up. Hermione's eyes widened, baffled at how an eleven year old knew such foul language.

She glared at him with piercing brown eyes, "I have never said anything against you, nor have I said a word against your family. I have never directed the term "blood-traitor" towards anybody, nor have I ever called Muggle-borns any other name. I am not capable enough to cast Dark spells and your attitude towards people who have more money than you is atrocious. It's not my fault I was born blessed."

The redhead looked as if he was going to pounce at her, she reached for her wand —

"What's going on here?" Madam Since had suddenly appeared in front of them, forcing the two to stand at attention, wands forgotten.

"Nothing, Madam." Hermione said sweetly to the witch whose eyes were narrowed in suspicion. "Just a spat about homework is all. I'll be leaving now."

The three boys watched her leave, one in bubbling anger, another in confusion, and the last one with a small smile threatening to show on his face.

Hermione was unaware of the six eyes watching her as she stabbed at her bacon strip with as much venom as a tentacle bite. Her gloomy disposition had been noticed by everyone at the breakfast tale, who had been watching her attack her breakfast for the last fifteen minutes.

"Um, Hermione?" Blaise asked cautiously, placing a hand on the shoulder of the witch next to him.

"What?" she growled at the boy, who withdrew his hand quickly, scared that it might end up like her bacon.

"What's wrong? You've been trying to murder your food ever since you sat down." he said, eyeing the fork, he had his hand resting on his wand just in case.

The witch bristled at his words, suddenly realizing she had an audience. "Nothing." she muttered. "Just family stuff."

It wasn't _exactly_ a lie her fight last night had included her family, kind of.

"Are you sure?" the boy asked, not convinced.

"Yes." she said, standing up suddenly "I left my Charms book in the dorms, I should get it before classes start."

She half-jogged out the Great Hall, grateful that none of her friends had followed her out. It had been one thing for Draco, Greg, and Vince to get into a brawl for her, she wouldn't stand it if the rest of her friends got themselves into trouble too. This was her battle to fight, and she would do it alone.

"Hermione! Wait!" a voice came from behind her.

She hastened her steps, not wanting any of her friends to see the stress etched into her face. She turned left sharply, catching her breath, thinking that whoever had wanted to talk to her had left, since they hadn't called for her again, but she was turned around suddenly, and she came face to face with the brown eyes of Neville Longbottom.

"What do you want?" she asked, eyes narrowed.

"We wanted to apologize for what Ron said yesterday. We don't think you're all those things, really. It's just that you're friends with Malfoy, and he's a right git, and we thought that you were just like him."

"We?" she asked, looking behind the boy to see Harry Potter with a blank expression on his face

"Potter." she muttered in acknowledgement. "Thanks for the apology, Neville, but it really doesn't do much."

"We know, but we just wanted to say that you seem nice enough, you helped me find Trevor, so you can't be that bad." he said sheepishly.

Hermione nodded, not knowing how to respond. She saw Neville nudge Potter with his elbow lightly, which earned him a glare from the other boy.

"Ehem." Potter said. "I - um - wanted to apologize too. For listening to Ron about you. You really haven't done anything to us, only defended yourself. And it's not your fault you're friends with Malfoy."

Hermione raised a brow, but nodded nonetheless.

"Friends?" Neville said, extending his hand, a light blush on his cheeks. Hermione stared at his outstretched hand absently.

"No, not friends." she said. "Acquaintances is more like it."

"Acquaintances, then."

She took his hand, waited for Potter to extend his own, and shook his, before muttering a half-hearted goodbye.

 _'Well, that was unexpected.'_ she thought, as she rounded the corner, leaving the two Gryffindors in her wake.

She hesitated a third time, watching her potions professor as he inspected the labels on the vials of Forgetfulness Potion on his desk.

"Miss Dagworth-Granger, if you have a question, I suggest you ask it now before you give me an aneurysm from your incessant rocking back and forth." Snape said, not even glancing up at her.

Hermione squared her shoulders and walked up to her professor, who was holding up a potion labeled 'Weasley'.

"That's no good." she said, eyeing the mauve potion in his hands. "He added the Valerian sprigs five seconds too early and tried to make up for it by adding another half sprig."

Snape looked up then, glaring at her with beady black eyes, "I can see that for myself, child. I would like to think my knowledge far surpasses that of an eleven year old, no matter how many time's she's been in her father's labs."

Hermione shrugged, though her heart was beating rapidly as she faced her head of house.

"Now, what do you want, girl? Get on with it." he ordered, marking the potion in his hand with red ink. She felt a little joy at seeing Weasley fail.

"Sir, I was wondering what you could tell me about the Sorcerer's Stone?" she asked, her voice trembling over the last few words. She noticed that Snape's hand had stopped midway in reaching for another vial. His eyes were now boring into her, and she suddenly began to feel a headache coming on.

"I am afraid I don't know what you're talking about Miss Dagworth-Granger, now, if you would so kindly remove yourself from my presence, I have more potions to grade." he said cooly.

Hermione glared at her professor warily, as he made a show of not looking at her when she didn't immediately leave. "Yes, Professor." she said, heading for the door, even more clueless than she was before.

She had ended up practically stalking Potter, watching him leave the Great Hall, staying behind after classes so she could trail behind him, hoping to catch him saying something or doing something in particular, but nothing out of the ordinary happened. She wondered whether they knew about Flamel already, who he was, that it, since the library had been oddly lacking in information about the man, considering that he was famous.

Soon, holidays were approaching and she had slipped into a foul mood at not being able to figure out what the boy was up to. Her friends had noticed the subtle change, but assumed it was because of lessons. Hermione was always sneaking off into the library every chance she got, always returning right before curfew. Sometimes, Theo would join her to study, but not usually, since she preferred to study in absolute silence.

The week before Christmas holidays, she found herself having breakfast in the Great Hall, head buried in one of her 'light reading' books, occasionally trying to contribute to her friends' conversation, but not fully invested in it. Her focus was only interrupted by a pale green envelope that had fallen onto the open book. She held it up in surprise, her parents and grandfather didn't usually write her so late in the week, they often sent letters on Mondays. She turned to Daphne, who sat next to her, holding out an identical envelope in her hands. Looking around, it seemed like each of her friends had gotten one.

Daphne and Pansy were looking especially ecstatic, their smiles lighting up their faces as they inspected the envelope like it might be hiding a lost treasure inside, they each had their individual names written on them in shining gold ink, the letter was enclosed by a gold seal depicting a circle of 28 stars.

"What is it?" she asked the two girls, who looked at her in horror.

"What to you mean, _'What is it?"_?" Daphne asked, sounding slighted.

"It's an invitation to one of the most prestigious events in all of England!" Pansy screeched at her.

"Hello? I'm French?" she pointed out to the two, sending a glance at the boys, who were looking on at the conversation in amusement.

"Right." Daphne said, still in disbelief.

"So, what is it?" she pushed, still wanting an answer.

"It's an invite to the Winter Gala." Pansy explained. "They hold one every year, the host changing each year. It's arranged by the Women of the 28th, the existing matriarchs of the Sacred Twenty Eight. Last year, it was the Malfoy home, which my mother said was the best, by far." Draco preened at this, proud of anything his family did.

"This year's special though," Daphne added. "because we get to attend!"

"You haven't been able to before?" Hermione asked, glad that she wasn't alone.

"No, of course not. Young witches and Wizards are presented to society when they turn eleven. This will be our debut year." Pansy said.

"Maybe that's why they made us bring dress robes?" she said thoughtfully.

"Ugh, I'm going to have to change mine. They simply won't do." Daphne said snottily, with Pansy nodding in agreement.

"Who's hosting this year's then?" she inquired.

"No one knows until we get there. The envelopes aren't meant to be opened until the Winter Solstice. They're a Portkey to whichever manor the gala will be held." Daphne said.

Hermione nodded, wondering why her mother had never mentioned anything to her. As far as she knew, her mother hadn't attended anything other than Parisian society events the previous year so she was a bit confused, considering her mother was part of the Sacred Twenty Eight, and the Mistress of Black House to boot.

She decided to send a letter to her mother then, inquiring about the gala and whether it was possible to get a new set of robes, since she was worried of being outshines by the two girls sitting next to her.

The breakfast table was enveloped in talk about fabrics and shoes all through out breakfast, much to the boys' annoyance. But nothing could stop Daphne and Pansy once they had begun their incessant chatter. Even Hermione joined in, telling them about the shops in Paris and her mother's personal designer.

No one in Slytherin was staying for the holidays, since most had received Tracey Davis had sadly not received an invite, being the daughter of a muggle and a halfblood. Millicent seemed relieved at getting the green envelope, probably thinking her mother, who was a halfblood, might have lessened her chances as receiving one.

It seemed that other students from different houses had been recipients to the invite, also. Hermione had heard Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown talking about it during Potions. She wondered how the Women arranged the Gala, since it seemed that Narcissa Malfoy would have trouble conversing with Augusta Longbottom about serviettes, and whether or not Jessamine Abott argued with Priscilla Parkinson over champagne. She made a mental note to ask her mother when she got home.

On the train ride from Hogwarts, Pansy and Daphne busied themselves with trying to figure out who the host was for the year. It couldn't be Malfoy, they hosted last year, and the Notes did the year before that. They droned on and on, and Hermione had to force herself to fall asleep on Theo's shoulder just so they wouldn't drag her into the conversation. Lately, even Draco had taken to describing his dress robes for them all. If she heard one more word about the different types of dragon hide used for shoes, she would jump off the train willingly.

Theo shook her awake five minutes before arrival, smiling at her kindly. "Count yourself lucky." He said. "Pansy forced us to tell her what kind of pink looked better on her coloring. Honestly, it's _pink_."

"Salmon, mauve, and rose and three completely different colors!" Pansy screeched. Hermione resisted the urge to cover her ears.

"Pansy, give it a rest, you've been going on for _hours_." Blaise groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The pug faced witch harrumphed, walking out of the carriage in a huff, saying, "Barbarians."

The group followed her out, saying their goodbyes as they stepped off the train. Daphne gave her a hug, and said, "I'll see you on the twenty second, alright? I'll owl you my color scheme and Pansy's too, so we wont be wearing the same color."

Hermione nodded, watching her walk off to join a handsome couple who stood with the rest of the parents, waiting for their daughter. Lord and Lady Greengrass were just as good looking as their daughter, Daphne looked like a replica of her mother, with her father's blue eyes. How a family could be so beautiful, only Merlin knows.

"Hermione, darling, over here." a soft voice called out to her, just loud enough to catch her attention. The witch smiled widely, turning to face her parents. She ran into her father's arms and was quickly enveloped in a warm embrace. "Papa, Maman, I missed you so much." she said, burying her head in her father's clothes.

"We missed you too, dear." her father said, chuckling.

"Although next time, bebe, please do try not to run, it's unbecoming of a lady." her other said, sniffing in disapproval.

"Sorry, Maman, I just missed you so much." she said innocently, looking up at her mother with large brown eyes. The woman smiled adoringly at her daughter, faux pas forgotten.

"Come now, or we'll miss our Portkey." her father said, ushering the two women out of the station. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a group of flame haired individuals to her right. She spotted Ron Weasley being fussed over by a matronly looking woman, and the twins laughing at their brother. She caught one of the two boys' eye, Fred, maybe, and he smiled at her kindly. It seemed that the brothers had not been brainwashed by their younger sibling, she realized happily. They had been quite nice to her.

"Maman, you never replied to my letter about the Gala." she remembered suddenly, looking at her mother.

"Yes, I wanted to tell you all about it in person. Too much to write about on paper, you know. We have an appointment with Druella in the morning for your new robes, so you'll need to be up early. Also, we have to find you new shoes and visit Gringgot's, you'll need Black heirlooms of course." her mother finished, just as her father brought out their Portkey - a ball of orange yarn, and told them to hold on.

Hermione felt a pull on her navel, and almost instantly, she found herself on the doorstep of their home. Their house was under a Fidelius Charm, unplottable, like Hogwarts, so no one could Portkey or Apparate _into_ the house. Her father reached for the brass door knocker, the metal banging on the ornate white door. It swung open on the second knock, revealing a frazzled looking house elf behind it.

"Hello, Mimi." she said, smiling fondly at the elf. "Miss me?"

The elf let out a squeak, "Mistress Hermione be back from school! Mimi shall make her favorite biscuits right away, she will." and disappeared with a pop, Hermione noticed that the elf had taken her trunk along too.

Her father chuckled in amusement, sharing a look with his wife. "Lyra, my dear, your grandfather is waiting for you in his study."

Hermione brightened, and immediately scampered off to find the man.

She found him looking out the window, which he always seemed to do, smoking from a wooden pipe, the room filled with the smell of jasmine. "Grand-papa!" she exclaimed, running to the old man excitedly.

The man turned, a fond smile on his face as his granddaughter embraced him tightly, noticing the tears that had begun to form in her eyes. "Oh, now, now, darling, no tears." he said, brushing a hand through her hair.

"I missed you." the witch said.

"As I, you, my dear. Now tell me all about Hogwarts, then. What do you think?" he said, guiding her to one of the couches in the room.

"Oh, it's amazing, grandfather. I'm top of the class, and Potions is brilliant, but quite easy. I love Transfiguraton though, it's my favorite class." she said in a hurry, eager to be talking to him again.

"And your classmates? Is Slytherin treating you well?"

"Yes grandfather. Daphne Greengrass is my best friend, although Pansy Parkinson sometimes joins us. Draco Malfoy's alright too, although he's a bit spoiled. Blaise Zabini and Theodore Not are both brilliant boys, but a little too invested in Quidditch." she said, listing down the names of her friends.

"No friends from other houses?" her grandfather queried.

"A few, Neville Longbottom from Gryffindor is alright, a bit tactless, though, then there's Padma Patil, who's very smart, she's in Ravenclaw, and a couple more."

The old man nodded, recognizing the names, "No trouble in school, I hope."

Hermione hung her head a little, looking sheepish. "Maybe just a little."

The man chuckled, "What did they do to you?"

"Nothing much, really, it's just that Ron Weasley's a git who judges people for being in a certain family, he told Potter not to talk to me because I was a Black. I guess he was just jealous." she said, growing annoyed at the memory.

Alphard looked at her with worry, "Did he do anything to you? Hex you, or jinx you? I could owl Dumbledore."

"No!" she exclaimed. "He didn't hurt me or anything, just said some mean things to me. Potter and Neville apologized for him, but he's still been snappy to me."

"Potter? Harry Potter?" he asked in surprise.

"Yes, he's in my year. We aren't friends, not really." she said. "Oh, that reminds me, grand-papa. Things are weird at school, Headmaster Dumbledore closed off a whole corridor in the castle and Potter knows something's up, too. I saw him researching about Nicholas Flamel in the library, which he never goes to, and Flamel isn't on our course list, and when I asked Professor Snape about the Sorcerer's Stone, he sent me out of the room. The library doesn't have any books about it either, which is odd, since our library has tons of books about it." she was gasping for breath by the end of her spiel.

"Breathe, child." her grandfather said with a chuckle.

"What do you think, grand-papa?" she asked, when she had regained her composure.

"It could be nothing." he said, thoughtfully, a growing bubble of suspicion entering his mind. "Although with Dumbledore, it usually isn't."

Hermione nodded her head, and the conversation veered towards the Winter Gala again, which, without Pansy and Daphne talking about it, actually excited her.

The following day, she was woken up by a house elf shaking her roughly. "Missy Hermione needs to wake up, she does. Has to let Mimi run her bath she does. She's to be going to get new robes she is."

Hermione sat up in her bed, rubbing her eyes at the elf who was now bouncing up and down on her mattress. "Good morning to you too, Mimi."

"Missy Hermione is to be taking bath now." the elf said, crossing her spindly hands over one another in determination.

Once she was dressed in a cerulean blue sun dress, no robes since they would be walking. Mimi took her, and forced her into a chair. She watched the elf work, pulling and tugging at her hair until it was a mass of soft curls falling down her back, fastened by a silk ribbon that matched her dress. Hermione thanked the elf, who preened at the thanks, and was led out the room to the dining hall, where the rest of her family was already busy having their morning meal.

"Good morning." she said to everybody.

"Quick, my darling. Our appointment's at eight, and you know how Druella gets when we're late." her mother said, gesturing to take a seat.

Once she had sat, her mother began her impromptu lesson on the Winter Gala, most of the facts, she knew already. They, considering how young they were, were not expected to arrive with dates, but will be introduced to the room once everyone was accounted for. Yes, there was trouble in working together with the Sacred Twenty Eight, which was why they were divided into committees.

"But Maman, I haven't seen you attend a ball like that, and you've always said that you haven't been to England in eleven years." Hermione pointed out.

"Yes, but I've always donated to the Gala, which has substituted for my participation. But, with you being introduced, I've pledged my service to the Women. Now, where was I? Oh yes, the attendees are Portkeyed into the hostess' manor, which you won't be doing of course —"

"What? Why wont I be —" she was stopped by the knowing look her mother was sending her "No! You're the hostess? But Daphne said that there hasn't been a Gala out of England in —"

"Over a century, I know. But the Women chose me, since the Blacks haven't been the hosts in such a long time. That's why I haven't been able to write you much. Too many meetings and such."

"Oh, Pansy is going to _die_ when she finds out." Hermione said gleefully.

"Hermione." her mother said reproachfully, "You aren't to tell any of your friends that we are the hosts for this year. It's tradition."

She wilted at that, but brightened up at the thought of seeing the surprised looks of her friends when she greeted them at the door. Dagworth-Granger Manor after all, was listed as one of Paris' most beautiful wizarding homes, and it was certainly the largest. They ballroom was roughly the size of a quid ditch pitch, maybe even bigger, and their house elves were always happy to serve.

"Finish your food, dear. We best be off." her mother said.

Hermione jumped off her seat excitedly, eliciting a laugh from the two men in the room, who had been watching them in amusement. "Take care, my darlings." her father said, as his wife gave him a kiss goodbye.

The streets of Paris were beautiful, especially so early in the morning, with the cafe's just opening and people hurrying off to work. It always seemed that Parisians were dressed to kill, even on a cold morning like this one, with women in black skirts that showed off their stocking clad legs, and men with scars wrapped artfully around their necks. She wondered how these Muggles weren't freezing. She and her mother were both covered by wool lined black trench coats, which had been spelled with Heating Charms to keep out the cold, but Hermione could still feel the cold breeze on her face, and had to ask her mother to charm her again.

The pair walked into small cafe with a bright red door with the word "Rouge" painted on it. A bell chimed when they entered, alerting the other customers of their arrival. Only a handful of people were in, but all of them watched the two enter, knowing exactly who had just arrived.

"Lady Dagworth-Granger, anything for you today?" a lady behind the counter said as they approached. She had pale blond hair twisted up into a bun, and large rectangular glasses perched on a pointed nose. "Oh, hello there, little one." she said, seeing Hermione.

"Bonjour, Marguerite." Hermione said with a smile. The owner of Rouge had always been nice to her, giving her eclairs when she was a child whenever they visited.

"Nothing today, dear. Just passing through." her mother said with a smile.

"Very well, then. Enjoy your shopping then." Marguerite said.

The pair smiled and walked towards an arched red door. Hermione's mother brought out her wand and tapped the door knob once, the door seemed so glow a bright red, and opened on its own accord.

Hermione stepped into the light after her mother, and was greeted by the loud sounds of Le Carré Square.

A/N: I know Hermione seems to drastically shift from acting like a blood purist to being kind to blood traitors like Neville. My explanation for this is that she's confused because she was raised in a slightly divided household, where her mother and grandmother were strong believers of purity, and her grandfather generally more accepting. Her father is lenient towards the subject since he grew up in France, which didn't have beliefs as strong as their English counterparts. Through the story, Hermione will be battling with herself and the things she was taught, since she also wants to think for herself (because that's just how Hermione is). So just bear with her please.


	6. Chapter 6: A Winter's Ball

Le Carre Square was a bustling, busy Wizarding centre, not unlike Diagon Alley. Witches being dragged by their sons and daughters could be seen entering Marcel's, a popular sweetshop that rivaled Honeydukes, except that it sold the most heavily macaroons in the world. All around the square people were hurrying, shopping bags on their arms, looking for Christmas presents. One wizard came out of a Quidditch supply shop carrying a miniature broom wrapped in a ribbon, and she began wondering what she should get her friends for Christmas. A marble fountain flowed freely in the middle of the square while children walked up to drop knuts and make a wish.

"Maman, can we look for presents later? I have a bit of shopping to do." she asked the woman next to her.

" _Oui, mon cher._ " her mother said. "Here we are."

Bellamy Haute Couture was one of the more noticeable establishments in the square. The large shoppe painted in a soft rose with tall display windows showing several animated mannequins posing in varying outfits, one was in a lilac construction that looked as if it belonged to an entirely different century, and another in a scarlet dress with a slit up the thigh that her mother would never approve of.

The two witches walked up the gold painted steps of the shop, her mother opening the door which chimed at their arrival. Hermione smiled at the familiar smell of fabric, and the sound of a sewing machine working in a corner.

"Ladies Dagworth-Granger! How lovely to see you again." a witch who had not been in front of them a moment ago said in a heavy French accent, moving to kiss her mother on both cheeks.

" _Enchantée madame_. You received my owl?" her mother said.

" _Oui, oui._ New gowns for the Gala, yes? For the little Mademoiselle?"

"Yes. And you've stood by our arrangement, of course?"

" _Bien sûr!_ No accepting clients for the Gala besides you." the dressmaker said, with a smile that said her loyalty had been paid for very graciously.

"Yes, well, let's get this over with then?" her mother urged. "I was thinking of something sweet, nothing dark, but nothing too bright either. Something that fits her age, she still only is eleven you know. Maybe off shoulder, cinched at the waist, and a flowing skirt with a few petticoats underneath?" While her mother talked, a charmed tape measure was taking her measurements, which were written down by a Quick Notes Quill.

Madame Bellamy nodded, quickly drawing up a rough sketch on a piece of parchment she had conjured up, showing it to them when she had finished. The sketch was exactly as her mother had described it, with only a few minor touches, a sprinkle of beading, and a see-through skirt over a shining silk fabric.

"Druella, you've outdone yourself once again." her mother said with a smile.

"Now, does the Mademoiselle have any color preferences?" the witch said to her.

"Nothing pink or purple, please." she said, thoughtfully. "Maybe a soft white? The underskirt could be gold, and the beading could be replaced with crystals."

She spared a glance at her mother, who was nodding in approval. The dressmaker clapped her hands, and rolls of fabric came flying out of shelves, along with boxes of crystals that looked as if they were genuine, which they probably were. Hermione left her mother to decide on the final touches, happy to at least contribute, and crouched to rub the Madame's pet cat, who had crept up to her while she was talking.

"Hermione, dear, let's go." her mother said, already at the door. The little witch followed as her mother led her to one of the many shoe stores that lined the square, and quickly picked a pair of golden kitten heels, wanting everything to be done.

Lyra, knowing her daughter did not find as much joy as she did while shopping, agreed to leave Hermione to her own business as she went to Gringott's to pick out a few things. "Meet me in front of the fountain in half an hour, alright?"

Then, she was off, with a pocket full of galleons and several ideas. First, she picked up a pair of silver combs for Daphne, who took incredible care of her golden hair, next she bought a box of macaroons and bonbons fro Marcel's for Pansy, as well as a box of bonbons each for Greg and Vince. For Blaise, she got a green cashmere jumper, since she was always borrowing his, for Theo, a first edition of _Potions Moste Obscure_ , by Socrates Thorpe, a colleague of her father's, and for Draco, a book called Quidditch: The Winner's Handbook, signed by every existing member of the most successful team in history, the Montrose Magpies.

She found herself quite satisfied with the hall, as she had also managed to buy her father a new sterling silver small sized cauldron, which specialized in the making of Felix Felicis, her mother a charmed mahogany jewelry box charmed so that only the owner could open it, and her grandfather a charming new pipe spelled to never run out.

"All done?" her mother said, as she approached, hands heavy with shopping bags. The older woman took one look at her, and cast a shrinking charm on the bags, alleviating her of them.

"That's better. Now, let's hurry along so we won't be late for lunch."

* * *

She had been banished to her room for the remainder of the day, and she was sulking. In the days leading to the Gala, her mother had been a force to be reckoned with, her father had lightly suggested to calm down, which resulted in her throwing a vase at his head. Now, she had ordered her only daughter to her room, claiming that she wasn't supposed to see anything until the actual Gala later that night.

So Hermione had busied herself toying with the gown that was now draped over a mannequin by the foot of her bed. It had turned out better than expected, with an air of innocence, and the feel of belonging to a daughter of a very _very_ wealthy man.

She stared at the dress, knowing that she would look good in it, but also wishing she was a few years older, so she could wear the types of dresses her mother did, ones that caught the eye of every person in the room as soon as she walked in. She sighed in resignation, hoping that one day, she would be just like her mother — _beautiful_ in every sense of the word.

Mimi found her like that hours later, still on her bed, daydreaming of the future. "Missy Hermione, it's time to get ready it is."

The house elf went through a more complicated process of dressing that afternoon, filling her bath with scented oils and delicate bubbles, washing her hair with utmost care, and extracting her exactly twenty five minutes later, wrapping her up in a soft bathrobe.

The elf now stood in front of her, the gears turning in her head as she applied powder, blush, and several other things that Hermione did not recognize, with several instructions of "Look up, Miss." and "Look at Mimi's ear, Miss."

Her hair took the longest time of all, the elf wrestled it into place with glittering hairpins to keep them that way, and extra-strength Sleekeazy formula, so that her hair tumbled down her back tastefully, framing her face like a dark halo.

She slipped into her dress carefully, and Mimi helped with her shoes and jewelry. And, three hours after they had begun, they were done. Hermione looked back at her reflection in approval, Mimi had done a good job, she still looked like herself, only better. The pink added to her cheeks put color in her face, and the gloss added a shine to her lips, all in all, her mother would probably be proud.

When the time came for guests to start arriving, she waited patiently for Mimi to get her so that she could join her friends in the waiting room. When the elf had appeared, her heart began to beat in excitement. She was lead to the third landing of their manor, a couple of floors from her own room, and into a large room that was usually used as a ladies room.

She entered the room, which was filled with the excited chatter of children, and was almost immediately faced with her friends, who all looked incredibly dapper. The five boys were all in dark dress robes with accents of green and silver, Daphne in a lilac, Greek inspired gown, and Pansy in a fluffy ballgown of the brightest shade of pink she had ever seen.

"Hermione! You look amazing." Daphne cried. "Did you just get here? Can you believe this house? Sweet Morgana, it's huge! I don't know who lives here but they must be loaded."

Hermione let out a laugh, "I've been here since this morning, waiting for you." she said.

Pansy and Daphne both screamed loudly, "You live here!?"

The boys all simultaneously covered their ears at the shrill cry, and a few others in the room turned to look at them. She noticed Neville talking to Hannah Abott on the other side of the room, and offered him a small smile, which he returned immediately.

"Hermione! Why didn't you tell us?" Pansy whined.

"Merlin, we're in Paris, Pans, Paris!" Daphne said excitedly.

"I wasn't allowed to talk about it, I wanted to owl you, I swear, but my mother wouldn't let me. I haven't even since the ballroom for myself." she explained. But the two girls were busy talking about Paris this and that, so she turned towards the boys.

"You lot clean up well." she observed, as they all stood straight at her praise.

"Couldn't you have come down sooner? Pansy's been begging for compliments since she got here." Theo said with a grin.

"I heard that, Theo Nott!" the dark haired witch said, making them all laugh.

"You look great Hermione." the wizard said with a smile. She nodded her thanks, turning to Draco.

"I saw your mother a few days ago, she had a meeting with my Maman." she said.

"Yeah, she told me she had to find me a pair of cufflinks, guess there weren't any good ones in Diagon Alley." the blonde joked.

Suddenly, the large doors to the room opened, and in came Hector Dagworth-Granger. Theo stood still, a little starstruck. Hermione leaned in to whisper, "He's just my father, ease up, you're stiff as a board."

"Children, follow me." he said, with a twinkle in his eye, their group lead the pack of twenty or so eleven year olds, following her father to the closed double doors of the ballroom. "Wait until your name is called before you enter." he said, shooting a smile at his daughter before slipping inside.

"Do we go in by last name?" Pansy whispered next to her.

"No, it's according to standing. Usually, the hostess' daughter goes in first, though." she answered, anxiety seeping into her bones.

Sure enough, the doors burst open and light came pouring out, along with the musical boom of her name above the music. "Hermione Mira Black Dagworth-Granger! Daughter of Lord Hector Dagworth Granger and Lady Lyra Black, granddaughter of Lord Alphard Black. Heir to House Dagworth-Granger, Heir to House Black."

She took a deep breath, and entered the room, as it filled with the sound of polite applause. She smiled at the crowd, and curtsied gracefully, before being escorted by her father to her seat. She stared at the ballroom in awe, her mother's hard work had paid off. The tables were covered in a soft green cloth, topped by a beautiful arrangement of white lilies that floated a feet off the table, below it were silver wrapped gifts as party favors. An invisible orchestra played music on the stage, and the high ceilings were decorated in ribbons and yards of white, green, and silver fabric, fairy lights lit up the room, floating around like firebugs. To top it all off, a thirty foot tall evergreen tree stood at the front of the room, covered entirely in Christmas baubles that glittered and glistened.

She was snapped out of her reverie by another round of applause, "Draco Abraxas Black Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black. Heir to House Malfoy."

She watched as Draco sauntered to the middle of the room, stopping with a deep bow, before walking over to sit next to her. "Is it just me or do I feel like —"

"Like you"re on display? No, it's not just you." she said.

"I was going to say 'like I'm the most good-looking guy here' but that too." he said, smirking.

She rolled his eyes as him, watching as Theo took the seat to her left. "I beg to differ Malfoy, Theo here beats you by a long shot." she said, patting the boy's arm.

"Theo? He had to have his mother pick out his shoes for him." he said, as if it was the worst thing to do.

"What are you two on about?" Theo asked, glancing at the pair.

"Nothing." they chimed, with a matching grin.

Theo just shook his head at them, welcoming Daphne, whose father had just escorted to the seat next to him.

The rest of the night passed quickly, which was fine with her. Her feet were sore from dancing and her legs ached from being in heels for too long. So when they announced the last dance, she breathed out a sigh of relief.

She watched the guests leave through Portkey one by one, and soon only a handful were left, so, she walked up to her room and quickly stripped off the heavy dress, donning a pair of comfortable pajamas, and got ready for bed.

Only when she began taking off her earrings did she realize that one was missing. Dread filled her as she imagined her mother's reaction, so she sneaked back into the ballroom, which was now empty, and traced her steps. Luckily, she found it lying on the floor under her chair, and clutched it securely in her hand. She closed the ballroom door as softly as she could, but, passing the waiting room from earlier, she could hear the lull of voices inside.

"Our Lord will rise again, I can feel it." a gruff voice said from behind the door.

"Yes, Lucius, I too, can sense his return." another said.

"I know, I know. There is dark magic in the air, but we have to wait. We do not know anything for sure. We can't just go off terrorizing people willy nilly." she recognized the voice of Lucius Malfoy and sucked in a breath.

"He will want new recruits when he rises, you know. Half of us are in Azkaban, if not under ground." the gruff voice said again.

"My son will willingly pledge his allegiance to the our Lord." the other voice said.

And after a while, Lucius spoke, "As will my own."

Hermione's heart clenched in fear for Draco's sake, and she struggled to hear more. But the next sound she heard was faint footfalls of several individuals coming nearer and nearer. She backed away, quickly, hands shaking, and ran up the stairs as fast as her feet could take her, when she reached the fourth landing, she hid behind a stone pillar, where she could see the men exit the room.

The first was one she did not recognize, a bearded man with harsh eyes, and a scraggly brown hair, the second was Lucius Malfoy, his sharp features set in stone, and the third, a dark haired man who looked oddly familiar.

She racked her brain for the connection, and again, she was filled with dread upon realizing this man was Thoros Nott, Theo's father. Reformed Death Eaters, the Ministry had called them, but it seemed as if they were not so reformed at all. Hermione leant against the pillar for support, silently praying that she could save Theo and Draco before it was too late.

In the days after the Gala, Hermione waged an internal war with herself on whether or not she should speak to her grandfather about what she had overheard. She knew what happened in the war, knew the darkness that had spared no one, not even their family. Her grandfather still mourned for both of his nephews, though he never said anything about Bellatrix. Ultimately, she decided to ease the topic into their conversation one afternoon.

"Grand-pere, can I ask you a question?" she said nervously. Her grandfather nodded, nose still buried in the parchment that sat on his desk. "Do you think that You-Know-Who is actually dead?"

He looked at her sharply, his reading glasses almost falling off his nose. "Why, do you, child?" he said cautiously.

"Well, they never found a body, and there have been whispers, and with Harry Potter in Hogwarts, the whispers have only been getting louder." she explained, the words rehearsed in her head.

"It would do you good not to listen to gossip, my dear." he said. "Best not to think of such things."

"But grand-pere, what if he _isn't_ dead?" she pushed.

"What's got you so interested in this all of the sudden? A young girl like you shouldn't be reading about matters such as the Dark Lord." he said.

"I'm just wondering, is all. Just curious." she said, sensing that he was growing tense.

"Be cautious of that curiosity, it might get you into a bit of trouble." was all he said. Hermione resisted the urge to sigh in frustration at having gained nothing from the conversation.

She would just have to wait and keep an eye over her boys.

* * *

"Good morning, grandfather." she said, seeing the old man sat on his desk, scribbling something down on a sheet of parchment.

"Good morning, child." he said, not looking up, "What can I do for you?"

"Are you busy?" she asked, trying to get a peek over his shoulder at what he was writing.

"No, not terribly so." Alphard said, putting the parchment aside to face her.

"Well, if that's the case," Hermione said, "do you think you can teach me how to duel, grandpapa?"

The man's grey eyebrows shot up in surprise at the request. "Why would you want to know how, Hermione?"

"No reason in particular," she said with her hands behind her back, blinking innocently, "I was just curious, is all."

Piercing grey eyes bore into her own, as she looked up at her grandfather pleadingly.

"I just think it's necessary to know how to defend oneself when faced with, albeit unlikely, danger." she said.

"Mhmm." her grandfather said, "Has this anything to do with whatever you were going on about yesterday?"

"No, not at all." she lied smoothly, "All I want to know is how to properly face someone in a duel and win."

After a long, dragged out pause, her grandfather stood from his chair, picking up his wand from his desk as he walked next to her. "Well, I can't say it wouldn't be useful to you... but you have to promise not to go around challenging your schoolmates to duel you whenever they irk you."

"I promise!" she chirped, taking her wand out of her robes.

"Alright." Alphard said, with a single nod of his head, "Now, right foot in front of the other, like so."

She copied his stance, eagerly, placing a wide space between both her feet.

"It's best to stand like this to keep our center of gravity completely stably, thus creating a better flow of magic from our magical cores throughout the rest of our body." he explained. "Square your shoulders, and breathe deeply."

He waited for her to comply before saying, "Remember that when you're dueling in a Wizard's duel, there are rules, you can pick a second as your support or choose not to. You and your opponent set the rules, what spells to use, what not to, how to win, and everything else. In a real fight, everything goes, so what's most important is this stance. It's the best way to channel your magic clearly."

"When dueling, you must remember to always keep your mind clear, overthinking causes you to lose focus. Always pay attention to your opponent, watch his wand movements to see where he's directing his next spell."

Hermione nodded in understanding.

"To disarm your opponent, the incantation is _'Expelliarmus'_ , one swift flick of your wand straight to the mark." Alphard walked two meters away from her, resuming his stance. "Try it now."

She took a deep breath, clearing her mind before saying, " _Expelliarmus!"_

The result was instantaneous, a jet of red light erupted from the tip of her wand, straight to her grandfather, sending his wand flying towards her open hand.

"Very good." Alphard said, "Now, to avoid getting hit ..."


	7. Chapter 7: Into The Woods

Blaise had pushed her out of the Great Hall the morning of the first Quidditch match after the holidays, and Hermione was deeply regretting that she had promised to watch. "It's not even a Slytherin game!" she whined.

"Yes, but Gryffindor's playing, and think about all the ways Potter could fall of his broom!" the boy said, dragging the struggling witch to the field. Behind them, Draco grinned, probably imagining Potter falling face first, or maybe into Snape's lap.

Blaise didn't release her from his grasp until they had seated, she immediately began rubbing the reddening skin of her wrists, glaring at the boy angrily. The stands were filled with red and gold, and black and yellow, both sides cheering on excitedly as Snape blew the whistle to start the game.

Potter did not fall, much to Draco's disappointment, but he did catch the Snitch, which had Blaise in a fit of annoyance. Hermione grumbled really not understanding what was so great about the game. She watched Harry circle the field, holding up the small golden ball in his hand in a slow descent. When he landed, he was greeted by a flock of Gryffindors, congratulating the boy on the win. Hermione looked on as he walked off the pitch and into the locker rooms.

When her friends had gone back to the castle, she hung behind, noticing that Potter had not emerged from the locker rooms. She crept under the Quidditch stalls, eyes never leaving the door where the boy had entered. She pressed herself against a wooden beam when the door opened, and watched him walk out with a grin on his face.

Realizing that her suspicions were for nothing, she moved to leave, but before she could, the dark haired boy had jumped back onto his broom, the smile gone from his face. She tried to see what he had begun chasing, and failed. Making the split decision to go after him, she started to run as fast as her legs could take her, hesitating only for a moment when he flew over the Forbidden Forest. Taking out her wand, she cast a trace charm, her wand emitting a small glowing red string, so she could trace her steps back to where she had came from.

She followed the boy's flying figure until he came to a stop, flew down, and disappeared within the foliage. Hermione walked around, keeping her footsteps light, as she tried to find him. She stopped in her tracks at hearing two voices that for sure didn't belong to Potter. Walking towards the noise, she realized that the voices were of Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell. She crouched down, hiding in the bushes near them, and tried to latch on to what they were saying.

"Students aren't supposed to know about the Sorcerer's Stone after all…" Snape said, making the hairs on her arms stand. "Have you gotten past that beast of Hagrid's yet?"

Quirrell said something, his words incoherent because of his stutter.

"We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie." her Potions professor said, leaving in a flurry of robes.

She waited until Quirrell had left to run back to the castle, making sure Potter had no idea that she had been there at all. Once she was back in the safety of the castle, she went straight for library, determined to find out as much as she could about her two professors, and why they were talking about the Sorcerer's Stone.

As the weeks passed, Hermione had less and less luck at finding out what was going on, all she knew was the Severus Snape was a reformed Death Eater who avoided Azkaban by the interference of Albus Dumbledore, and if Dumbledore trusted Snape enough to free him of all charges, he couldn't have been that bad, though she kept herself wary of the man, remembering Lucius Malfoy. Quirinus Quirrell was a well known practitioner of Defense of the Dark Arts, and had a good reputation in it, with articles about defeating vampires, trolls, and such, which was odd, considering that he was a stuttering mess of a man.

Professor Quirrell grew paler and thinner in the following weeks, and she noticed him hanging by the third floor corridor most of the time, which piqued her interest, since a certain group of boys could also be seen lurking in that part of the castle when they thought no one was looking.

Hermione drew up as much courage as she could one night, and slipped out of her common room just a little before curfew, making sure to use the corridors that the prefects didn't usually patrol, and stayed away from the Professor's quarters. Narrowly avoiding being led astray by a moving staircase, she hopped onto the third floor, her feet barely making a sound.

Looking around, she sighed in relief at seeing that no one was in sight. The girl quickly walked to the last door in the corridor, whispering a quick _Alohamora_. Squaring her shoulders, she turned the knob slowly, and opened the door just enough to peek through.

A harsh growl met her ears when she popped her head in and froze at the sight in front of her. A monstrous, black three headed dog was looming at her, snarling with glistening sharp teeth, trying to break away from the chains that held it to the wall, its heads snapped at her, getting dangerously close to her face.

She let out a small squeak of fright and withdrew her head, the door slamming behind her. With trembling hands, she ran back to the dungeons, fearful that the beast would succeed in breaking free and bite her head off. _'Hagrid's beast.'_ she thought, thinking back to what Professor Snape had said.

Slipping into the common room, out of breath and heart beating a mile a minute, she struggled to comprehend what she had just seen.

"Hermione?" a voice said from somewhere in the room, making her yelp in surprise. "You look like you've seen a ghost, what's wrong?"

Blaise Zabini was sitting on the couch in front of the fire, a book in his hands, which was an odd occurrence, and was looking at her with genuine concern in his eyes at the sight of the witch that had just burst out of the door, gasping for breath.

"I'm fine." she said, forcing a smile onto her face. "It was just Peeves. He chased me through the castle flinging dung bombs at me."

"Good thing you got away, then." the boy said with a toothy smile.

Hermione let out a shaky laugh, trying not to let the immense fear sitting deep in her throat claw it's way out. "I should get ready for bed." she said, walking towards the dormitories. "Good night, Blaise."

"Night, Hermione." he called out to her retreating back.

Sitting on her bed later on, after she had changed out of her robes, she tried to keep her mind focused on one thing at a time. Ideas were running through her head as fast as her brain could make them, but one thing kept repeating itself over and over, the monster had been placed there for a reason, to protect whatever it was that was hidden underneath the trap door it stood over. And she had a ruddy good idea what it was.

What she didn't understand, though, was why the Stone was at Hogwarts, and whether it was Professor Quirrell or Professor Snape who wanted it.

The next day, Hermione was completely consumed in her own thoughts, attending classes like the usual, but never speaking up or raising her hand, she just sat in her chair and took down notes, although it seemed that she wasn't really listening. The professors would ask questions, half expecting her to raise her hand, but were only met by silence. At meals, she ate quickly and left, muttering a quick goodbye to her friends, who looked on in confusion.

Her mind was filled entirely of theories about the Stone, and her professors, and Dumbledore, who she had assumed was the reason why the Stone was at Hogwarts at all. But why? Why take it away from Gringott's where she knew Flamel kept it under high security? Why did the alchemist feel the need to send it to one of the safest places in the world? And, most importantly, _who_ was he protecting it from? Her professors? Her ideas didn't make sense, she couldn't make a coherent connection between the two and it was driving her mad.

And this was why she was now curled up in a love seat in the Slytherin common room, running a hand through her hair, which had come undone from their glamours and made the witch look like she had gone positively mad. She was scribbling frustratedly in one of her journals, crossing out words she had written, erasing theories that didn't make sense. She didn't realize that the fire had already gone out, and she was the only one left in the common room, the others having retired for the night.

"Hermione!" a voice hissed from somewhere near her. She looked up, and was met by the icy grey eyes of Draco Malfoy, who looked like he had just found a pot of gold. "I've been calling your name for the past five minutes! What the bloody hell are you doing?" he asked, trying to sneak a peek into what she had been writing.

She closed the journal quickly, hiding it from the boy, "Nothing. Just some Charms revision, is all." she said.

"Well, drop it for a moment, I've got something to tell you." he said. "Last week, I went to Hagrid's Hut."

"The games keeper? But, why?" she asked in confusion.

"I followed Potter, Weasley and Longbottom out of the Great Hall after supper."

"You _followed_ them?" she asked, baffled. "This obsession of yours has gotten out of hand, Draco."

"Oh, shut it, will you?" he said with a scowl, "I only followed them because of what you said. The _have_ been acting odd the past few months. You'll never guess what I saw, Hermione!"

"What?" she said, genuinely intrigued.

"The great oaf has a dragon! A real live dragon! Dragon breeding is illegal, and he'll probably be sacked and forced out of the castle!" the blonde said with glee.

"A dragon? He lives in a wooden hut!" she exclaimed at the absurdity of it all.

"Who cares? He'll be gone by morning, anyways."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I'm on my way to tell Snape." he said, with an expression of mirth on his face, taking out a piece of parchment out of his pocket. "I swiped this off of Weasley the other day, they're going to be moving the dragon at midnight, so are you coming with me or what?" She stood after a moment's hesitation and followed him out the door.

The pair had almost reached their head of house's office when they were stopped by a loud cough behind them. They turned to find an angry looking witch in magenta robes looking at them, lips curled in a tight frown. "And just where do you think you're going?" McGonagall asked the two.

"To Professor Snape's, ma'am. We have something important to tell him." Draco said.

"Pray tell, what, Mister Malfoy?" the witch asked.

Draco gulped, "I think it would be better if we told Professor Snape, ma'am."

"Anything you can tell Professor Snape, you can tell me." she said.

Draco glanced at her, as if she could get her out of the situation, but Hermione just nodded, looking just as panicked as he did. "I saw Potter, Weasley, and Longbottom go to Hagrid's Hut, Professor. Hagrid has a dragon in his possession, that's what I was going to tell Professor Snape."

"What a load of balderdash! How dare you lie to a professor!" the witch cried. "Detention! And ten points from Slytherin each!"

"But professor, it's true!" Hermione said, horrified at the idea of detention.

"Silence, Miss Granger!" the professor said sharply. "I will be informing Professor Snape of this, mind you. Off to your rooms, immediately!"

The pair of them glared at the old woman, but were forced to go back the way they came, resignedly.

"Detention!" she whispered to no one in particular. "Oh, how awful."

"We were so close to getting Potter." the boy next to her whined, as they each went to their own dormitories, complaining about entirely different things.

A week later, they found themselves following Filch out of the castle, alongside Potter, Neville, and Weasley. She nodded at Neville in greeting, and glared at the redhead standing next to him. Her heart sank when she realized they would be doing their detention with Hagrid, who was smiling at Potter kindly.

"You're taking us to the forest?" Draco repeated in disbelief. "We can't go there at night — there are werewolves and monsters in the forest."

She saw Neville clutch the sleeve of Potter's robes, his face in a mask of fear, and making a choking noise.

"You shoulda' thought of that before you got yourselves in trouble, shouldn't you?" Filch said, letting out a cackling laugh.

"I bin waitin' for half an hour, Filch." Hagrid said, petting the big dog who stood at his feet, Hermione was reminded of the monster, and shivered involuntarily. They watched Filch walk back into the castle, his face still too happy with the idea of them meeting their untimely demise.

"I'm not going in the forest." Draco said adamantly, and Hermione set a calming hand on his shoulder, seeing this, Ron said,

"Scared, Malfoy? Don't worry, you're girlfriend will protect you."

Hermione and Draco sneered at him, "Shut it, Weasley." she said vehemently.

"Yer going into the forest if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts." said Hagrid fiercely.

"Draco, just do as he says." she whispered, seeing the boy about to open his mouth to argue.

"My father will hear about this." he muttered under his breath.

"Right then, listen up, 'cause it's dangerous what we're doing tonight, an' I don't want none of you comin' back without an arm or a foot. Follow me." the man said, leading them to the edge of the forest.

"This here's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing."

"What if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us?" Draco asked shakily.

"There's nothin' in the forest that'll Thur yeh if yer with me or Fang. Just keep ter the path. We're gonna split into two parties, goin' in different directions. There's blood all over the place, so just follow the trail." he said.

"We want Fang." Draco said, eyeing the dog's sharp teeth,

"All right, but he's a right coward." said Hagrid. "So it'll be me, Longbottom, and Weasley, goin' one way, the rest yer go the other. If any of us finds the unicorn, send up green spark, right? Let's go."

The three students took Fang and trudged into the dark forest, going the opposite way Hagrid's group had taken. They walked in silence, not wanting to alert anything hidden in the trees to their presence. They followed the silver-blue blood through the bushes, noting the fallen branches next to the liquid.

"Could a werewolf be killing the unicorns?" Potter whispered next to her.

"They're not fast enough." informed Hermione. "It's almost impossible to outrun a unicorn, let alone catch one."

They walked until they passed a dead tree, and walked deeper and deeper into the forest, until the trees became so thick and the path narrowed, becoming almost impossible to follow. Hermione thought that she could see the blood get thicker the deeper they went. There were splashes of blood almost everywhere. She could see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of a large oak.

"Look—" Potter murmured behind her, holding his arm out to stop the other two.

Something white was gleaming on the ground. They walked closer to it cautiously. It was the unicorn, Hermione realized, and it was dead. She looked at the creature sadly, mourning its loss.

Potter moved to take another step toward it when a hissing sound made them freeze. A bush near them quivered, and out of the shadows, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground towards them. They stood there, frozen, watching as the cloaked figure draw nearer to the unicorn, lowered it's head and began to drink its blood.

Hermione saw Draco startle out of the corner of her eye, and he opened his mouth to scream. She clamped a hand over the blonde boy before he could let out a sound, but the cloaked figure noticed the movement, and looked right at Potter. Hermione couldn't move, watching as the thing got to his feet, approaching closer and closer. Hermione drew out her wand and shot out green sparks, but the creature did not stop coming closer. She was filled with a sense of dread that deepened as it approached.

Suddenly, they heard hooves behind them, galloping, and something large jumped over them, charging at the creature. Just as fast as it had appeared, the figure vanished, and they were faced with a centaur with white blonde hair. She and Draco watched in awe as it talked to Harry, introducing itself as Firenze.

Then, there was a sound of more galloping, and two more centaurs appeared, who Firenze called Ronan and Bane. The three students watched as the centaurs argued, but the two who had appeared left, plunging off into the trees.

Firenze turned to face them, saying, "Do you children know what unicorn blood is for?"

"It can cure a man of any illness, and even save him when he's an inch from death." Hermione said, as if she were in class.

"Indeed." the centaur nodded solemnly. "But, it is a horrible thing to slay a unicorn, once you have hurt something so pure and defenseless to save yourself, you will have only a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips."

"But who'd be so desperate?" Potter asked. "If you're going to be cursed forever, death's better, isn't it?"

"It is." Firenze agreed. "Unless all you need is to stay alive enough to drink something else — something powerful enough to bring you back to life completely, something that will mean you can never die. Do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?"

"The Stone." Hermione whispered in horror, Potter glanced at her sharply.

"I don't understand who —" Potter said.

"Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, biding their time, waiting for their chance?"

Hermione felt like her entire body was made of lead, she felt someone hand grip her wrist tightly, and she looked at Draco, who had gone a ghostly pale.

"Do you mean," Harry choked, "that was _Vol_ —"

"Harry! Harry, are you alright?"

Weasley and Neville were running towards them, with Hagrid following right behind them.

"I'm fine." Potter said. "The unicorn's dead, Hagrid, it's in the clearing back there."

"It is time for me to leave." Firenze said. "You are safe now."

They were led out of the forest by Hagrid moments later. She and Draco walked to the common rooms in stony silence, broken only when they had arrived at the portrait, where he turned her to face him, fingers digging into her shoulders.

"We speak of this to no-one." Draco said, his face almost pleading. "If my father found out —"

He broke off, as he paled even more at the thought.

"No one." Hermione agreed with a terse nod.


	8. Chapter 8: Déjà Vu

In the next few weeks, Hermione shoved all thoughts of the Philosopher's Stone deep into the back of her mind, focusing entirely on her examinations. She studied in the library with Theo, and they drilled each other on everything until they had every little detail memorized to the tee.

She practiced with Daphne, unlocking and locking doors, charming pillows to walk, turning hedgehogs into tea cozies, and doing it all over again. With Draco, she studied potions until they both could recite from heart the instructions, ingredients, and uses for all the potions they had been taught.

At the end of the week, they were all tired, but satisfied. The written exams went well for most of them, save for Greg and Vince, and the practicals were even better, all of them had managed to make Flitwick's pineapple dance, though only Hermione and Daphne got it to tap dance, they all successfully turned a mouse into a snuffbox, even if Blaise's still had whiskers, and everyone had scraped up a fairly decent Forgetfulness Potion, Snap had even showed the faintest hints of a smile as he passed by her brew.

She worried endlessly when they had left the Great Hall after finishing History of Magic, the very last of their exams, afraid that she had mucked up the name of one of the creators of self-stirring cauldrons.

"Would you shut up, Hermione?" Blaise moaned, clutching his head. "We all know you got a hundred and ten on that exams, so please stop already."

She huffed indignantly at the boy, eliciting a laugh from the rest of her friends.

"Look on the bright side, Hermione, no more exams!" Daphne said happily. "No more studying, no more headaches!"

She shook her head at the witch, unable to stop the smile from creeping onto her face as they walked out for a bit of fresh air. They all sat by the Black Lake, laughing under the sun at something Blaise had said. They stayed like that for the remainder of the day, nothing ruining that perfect afternoon. When supper time rolled in, they all made their way to the Great Hall with smiles on their faces.

The Great Hall was filled with the bright echo of conversation, a pleasant change to the tense state it had been under the stress of the exams. Everyone was grinning and laughing, glad to be done with studying, and happy that the holidays were approaching.

They continued the celebration in the common rooms, where the prefects had arranged an end of the year party of sorts, and a premature celebratory party for winning the House Cup — _again_. Everyone was in high spirits, as Terrence Higgs charmed an old record player to life, playing a tune from the Weird Sisters. Someone had snuck in cases of butterbeer from Hogsmeade, and there was a pile of sweets sitting atop a table, the seventh years had somehow gotten a hold of a bottle of fire whiskey, that got passed around. Blaise had stupidly asked for some, eager to try it, and ended up in a fit of coughing as the amber liquid burned down his throat. The boys who had given it to him had just laughed in amusement.

"Serves you right." Hermione said, after the laughter had abated. Blaise just grinned at her.

"At least I know what to expect next time." he said.

They retreated to one side of the room, where the boys played games of Exploding Snap and Wizard's Chess, and the girls bet on who would win, and talked about summer vacations, Pansy would be going to Switzerland with her family, at which Daphne whined, saying her father never let them do anything like that. Hermione faced Daphne, an idea popping into her head.

"Hey Daph," she whispered to the blonde "would you like to spend a few days with me? My mother loved you when I introduced you at the ball, and she would love to have you over if I asked."

The other girl just stared at her with big blue eyes, "Are you serious?"

"Absolutely." the moment she said it, Daphne tackled her, making them both fall to the ground in a heap of giggles.

"You're the best!" she squealed. "I have to ask my parents though, I'm not sure if they'll let me, but I'll beg, I'll _beg."_

Hermione laughed, "Perhaps a letter from my mother would help them with their decision?"

Daphne shrieked again, beginning to plan, and it was Pansy's turn to whine, wishing that she too, could come along.

"Maybe next time, Pans." Hermione said. "The boys could come too."

Everyone looked at her when she had said it, suddenly brightening up at the idea of a Dagworth-Granger holiday in their future.

The next day, Daphne clung to Hermione happily, still delighted with the witch. They entered the Great Hall for breakfast, and immediately noticed that it was in chaos. Everyone was loud, louder than usual, students were talking over each other and yelling, others were listening on. They taste down at the Slytherin table in confusion.

"Have you heard?" Tracey Davis said to them. "Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Neville Longbottom snuck into the third floor corridor last night and saved the Sorcerer's Stone from being stolen by Professor Quirrell! They say they had to get past a three headed monster, flying keys, poison, and a giant chess set!"

Hermione listened on, cursing herself for allowing herself to forget. So it was Quirrell. Had he been the one who was helping You-Know-Who? If he was gone, what would become of the Dark Lord? She spared a glance at Draco, who had scowled at Tracey's story, and began insulting Potter and his friends, Blaise jumped right in, coming up with delightful nicknames for the three Gryffindors, who were nowhere to be seen.

The rest of the day was filled with talk about Harry Potter this and Harry Potter that, much to the irritation of the professors, who couldn't get a word into their lessons, their voices drowned out by those of their excited students. The stories varied from person to person, one had said they had fought an actual dragon, which was highly unlikely, by the end of the day, she didn't know what to believe.

She searched for Potter during the end-of-year feast, but only found Neville and Weasley sitting at the Gryffindor table, the scarred hero noticeably absent. Neville didn't seem to know what to do with all the attention, blushing every time someone turned to talk to him, or clap him on the back. But Weasley was drinking it all in, telling and retelling the story of how they wouldn't have made it without him.

Hermione only held her annoyance in with the knowledge that Slytherin had the House Cup in the bag. The Great Hall was decorated in green banners, which brightened up her mood quite a bit, she turned to share this sentiment with Theo when suddenly the doors opened, and out came the Chosen One himself.

A sudden hush overcame the hall for the first time that day, and then everyone started talking loudly at once. Hermione watched him slip into a seat next to Ron, pointedly keeping his head down, and ignoring the blatant whispering of the people around him. Fortunately for him, Dumbledore burst through the doors moments later, and the babble died away.

"Another year gone! Dumbledore said cheerfully. "Now, as I understand it, the House Cup needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; In second place, Ravenclaw, with four hundred and twenty-six, and Slytherin, with four hundred and seventy-two points."

Slytherin table erupted in cheers, everyone puffing up a bit in pride. Draco banged his goblet on the table, making her laugh.

"However," Dumbledore said. "recent events must be taken into account."

The room went still, and Slytherin went silent, losing their smiles. Hermione thought to herself, _"No, he cant possibly do that.'_

But he could, and he did.

"First — to Mr. Ronald Weasley, for the best played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in centuries, I award Gryffindor fifty points." Gryffindor erupted in deafening cheers, almost drowning out Blaise's cry of: "Fifty points for chess?! What's he getting at?!"

"Second to Mr Neville Longbottom, for the use of logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor sixty points."

If possible, Gryffindor cheered even louder, they were now at four hundred twenty-two. Hermione braced herself for the inevitable.

"And lastly, to Mr Harry Potter, for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor sixty points."

The din was deafening. Everyone at the Gryffindor table jumped in triumph, while the Slytherins were looking on in disbelief.

"Which means," Dumbledore said. "we need a little change of decoration." he flicked his wand and the green of the Great Hall shifted into red and gold. Snape shook McGonagall's hand, looking as if he would have rather chopped his own off. Hermione glared at her mashed potatoes, her night ruined. Harry _bloody_ Potter saves the day once again.

The only thing good about the days that followed was the fact that their marks were in and she had the best grades of the first years. Her friends had all done well too, with Theo getting marks very close to hers. Even Greg and Vince had managed to scrape through.

Suddenly, their wardrobes were bare, and their trunks, full, Hagrid was there to take them to the boats that would lead them across the lake, and they were once again aboard the Hogwarts Express, munching on Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and Fizzing Whizbangs. Each promising the other to write. As they neared King's Cross, they pulled off their robes, and put on their coats, buttoning them over their sundresses and slacks.

As they stepped onto Platform 9 3/4, they turned to one another and waved goodbye. She and Pansy exchanged a tight hug.

"I'll write to you tonight with my parent's approval. I promise." she said. "See you in July!"

Hermione waved her off with a bright smile, and approached her parents, who had been observing the exchange with small grins on their faces.

"She'll be visiting this summer, is that alright with you, Papa, Maman?" she said, smiling with, big, pleading eyes at the two people who loves her most in life.

"Of course, mon cher." her father said kindly.

 _"_ _"Tu m'as tellement manqué"_ _"_ she said, as they led her to their Portkey.

"We missed you too, bébé. So very much." her mother said, as they held on to the muggle hat in her father's hand, and they felt the familiar pull of being Portrkeyed away.


	9. Chapter 9: Deuxième Étudiant

For the third time since the arrival of her friend a week before, Hermione sat at the foot of her bed watching in amusement while the blonde girl twirled around in a new pink silk dress.

"Oh, Hermione, you don't know how lucky you are." Daphne said wistfully.

"It's just a dress, Daph. You have dresses in England." the girl replied.

"It's not just the dress." the blonde girl pushed. "It's the macaroons and the _chocolat chaud_ , and the shoes, and the city, and the _boys_ , Hermione. Even the muggles are better looking."

The girl on the bed laughed, "If you like it so much, we can just never go back. Go to Beauxbatons instead, my father says the Academy is even prettier than Hogwarts."

"If only." the girl sighed. "But we're stuck at Hogwarts with treacle tart, and rain, and sensible shoes, and plain looking boys."

"You're far too mean to our boys." Hermione said.

"They're _boys,_ that's the problem." Daphne said, ignoring the other witch. "What I need is a _man_."

"Daphne, you're twelve." said Hermione.

"Your point being?" her friend said, failing to see what she had been trying to say.

She just shook her head at the other girl. "Do we have everything we need for tomorrow? I don't want to forget something and have to ask Maman to owl it to me. Poor Mercury hates it when he has to do cross country flying." she said, thinking of her father's eagle owl.

"I think your house elf's done quite a thorough job with our trunks." Daphne said, double checking. "I can't believe we're going back already."

"Me either. I hate leaving France, I always miss it when I'm gone." Hermione said sadly.

"Do you want to pack a box of macaroons for the train?" Daphne said, trying to lighten her friend's mood.

"Sure, Blaise wrote me about them, so I think we should bring a box just for him, and Theo loved the bonbons I sent him over the summer, so I'll have Mimi buy some before the shops close." As if she had summoned the elf, there was a loud pop and suddenly, she was there in from of them, smiling at her young Mistress with large adoring eyes.

"Missy Hermione be calling Mimi?" the elf squeaked.

"Yes, Mimi. Can you please buy a couple boxes of goodies from Marcel's before the shops close at Le Carre? Only if you're not busy, of course." Hermione said with a smile.

"Mimi is never too busy for Young Miss, Mimi shall be going right this moment." the elf said, and disappeared with another pop.

"You treat your elves so kindly." Daphne noted, having observed the conversation between the two.

"My grand-papa always told me that if you want to know what a man's like, you should take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals." she said simply.

"Not exactly the pureblood way of thinking." Daphne said simply.

"No." Hermione agreed. "But it's the decent way of thinking."

"Wonder what kind of man that makes Draco then." the other witch said thoughtfully.

"Draco's a good person, it's just that he's been taught to hate since he was very young. My grand-papa didn't like that about English purebloods. He says that children are not supposed to be exposed to anything but love, though they should be taught to understand hate. His brother treated his sons very much like Lucius Malfoy treats his own, with discipline and fear, if a child knows nothing but that, they're bound to have some bad ideals. "

"Is that why you act like you do when you're with Draco?" Daphne inquired.

"What do you mean?"

"Like you're trying to change him. You don't treat him like he's some sort of prince. You berate him when he's being a brat and when he says stuff like 'mudblood'."

Hermione looked at her friend, having misjudged the girl. She was more observant than she looked.

"What do you think about blood purity, Daphne?" she asked.

"Just what I was taught. We're better, but my parents never taught me to hate muggle borns. The Greengrasses aren't like the Malfoys. We believe in blood purity of course, but not to the point that we think half-bloods and muggle borns are dirt." the girl shrugged.

"That's how my grand-papa and Papa think. My mother has stronger beliefs because of my grandmother, I forget myself sometimes, because her, but my grandfather's always taught that muggle borns are just as magical as purebloods, we have an upper hand, of course, that's just how the world works, our magic can be stronger, because of our blood, but I can't deny the fact that they don't belong in our world, I'm stupid, nor am I ignorant." she said.

Daphne only nodded in agreement.

"That's what I'm trying to get Draco to see. I believe that we are meant to hate people who deserve our hatred, not the people who we are taught to hate."

"Doesn't your mother get mad at you?" asked Daphne.

"It's not like I talk about my beliefs to anyone. I'd be a social pariah in pureblood society. I'm no Gryffindor I'm just as much a Slytherin as you or Draco, I won't subject myself to isolation, I'm smarter than that, we both are. Besides, it's not like I'm bestfriends with a muggleborn." she said.

"True, you're bestfriends with a pureblood." the girl said and they shared a smile

"You look up your grandfather a lot." her friend said after a pause.

"He's a good man, and everything I want to grow up to be." Hermione said.

"You're a good person too, Hermione, you always try to help us when we need you. I really don't know why you're in Slytherin, you should have been in Hufflepuff." Daphne joked.

"Slytherins protect their own. You're my family, all of you." she said. "Even if you try to copy my homework."

The two laughed, the sound echoing around the room, and they both switched to lighter topics, making most of their last night before school began once again.

They boarded the train the next day, arms linked, with matching smiles, filled with excitement at meeting their friends again. The two girls scouted the train, and finally found the group of Slytherins, lounging about the carriage, they were the last to arrive. It seemed that the boys had all grown a few inches, much to Hermione's annoyance. Theo now towered over her, a good four inches taller, Blaise and Draco weren't far behind either.

Pansy hugged the two girls, asking about their summer, with thinly veiled jealousy in her eyes. She and Daphne brought out the blue Marcel's packages out of their trunks, before asking the boys to stow them away.

The group pounced on the pastries and chocolates, making the girls giggle, and soon, the boxes had been emptied of everything, with Blaise having laid claim on an entire box of macaroons to himself.

The train ride was full of talk about the summer, with Draco recalling the altercation with the Weasley family in Flourish and Blotts, leading to a slew of name calling and insults, which Hermione drowned out by listening to Pansy's stories about the Swiss alps.

Their conversation was cut when Draco, Greg, and Vince stood and left the carriage, most likely off to torment Potter or some unsuspecting first year. She moved to talk to Theo, who had been left to his own devices, since Blaise had fallen into a deep macaroon-induced sleep.

"My father's asked you to visit this Christmas." she said.

"What?" the boy said, his green eyes widening in alarm.

"No, not a betrothal visit, silly. Though you could try to look less frightened by the idea." Hermione teased, feigning hurt. He had the grace to look sheepish. "I just told him about your interest in potions, he seemed to like the fact that at least one of my friends could keep up with me."

"Draco's just as god as I am in Potions." he pointed out.

"That's sheer talent." Hermione brushed off. "You study the theory behind it. That's why my father was intrigued. He's invited all of you to stay for a few days, really. We won't be attending the Gala this year, so it would be nice to have something to do."

"Why won't you be going to the Gala?" he asked curiously.

"My father secretly hates society functions like that, he only goes because of my mother. I don't enjoy them very much either, so it's two against one. Plus, it's going to be in England, and my Mama doesn't like it very much here, she prefers Parisian weather." Hermione explained.

"Well, you have a point. It'll be much more boring without you there." he said, making her smile at the compliment.

"What did you do this summer, Theo?" she asked.

"Nothing much, really. My father's been teaching me some things, he's a Curse Breaker, though he doesn't work to often, I got to learn a few spells." the boy said proudly.

Hermione wanted to ask whether they were dark spells, but she bit her tongue, and smiled instead, asking about who he thought their new professor was.

"Well, it must be a witch, right? Have you seen our books? They're all by some smiling bloke named Lockhart." the boy said.

"I saw, it's a load of rubbish, really. He doesn't stop talking about himself in all of his books." she said with a hint of disgust.

"You read all of them?" Theo said. "I couldn't even get through one."

"Of course I read them. I didn't dwell on them much though, just focused on the Potions and Charms books. My father tested me on all the potions in the book. He made a couple revisions to some of the steps too, and added a few of his own notes." she said.

"Lucky." Theo said with envy.

"I'll show them to you, if you want." she offered. They're just minor changes really, one and a half doxy wings instead of two, three clockwise stirs and one added anti-clockwise. Things like that, just to make the potion a bit more potent."

"You're the best, 'Mione." he said.

"Mione?" she asked, her brow raised.

"Just trying it out." he said with a smirk.

"I don't like nicknames much." she admitted.

"Not your decision to make, is it?" he teased.

Daphne quietly observed the interaction, watching as the two laughed openly, and Theo slung his arm over the girl. Well, this was a new development.

Draco came back a while later and, with a brilliant smile on his face, announced that neither Potter or Weasley were aboard the train.

"What do you mean?' she asked.

"I mean, they're not here. Missing, absent, _disparu._ " he said, not losing the gleeful grin that had permanently settled on his face. "Do you think he's not coming back?"

"Hope so." Blaise muttered, fixing his bed hair. "The wanker cheated us out of the House Cup."

But luck was not on their side, it seemed, as they watched the two boys get carted off, out of the Great Hall during the welcome feast by a grave looking Professor Snape, who led them out by the collars of their robes. Rumors started spreading at once, finally reaching them, through Tracey Davis once again, that Weasley and Potter had missed the train, and drove a flying car to Hogwarts, crashing into the Whomping Willow.

"But weren't they seen?" Hermione asked in alarm.

"They were." Tracey nodded. "It was in a muggle newspaper."

"They broke the Statue of Secrecy." she muttered in disbelief.

"Now Dumbledore will have to expel them!" Draco exclaimed excitedly.

"Shh, don't jinx it!" Blaise chided.

"He's the Golden Boy, the headmaster can't expel him." Daphne said reasonably.

"A boy can only dream." Draco said, still thrilled with the thought.

As it turned out, Daphne had been right. They watched as the two boys walked into the Hall for breakfast the next day they were getting clapped on the back and congratulated by their housemates. The Slytherins glowered, falling into a sullen mood, that is, until an owl swooped down and a red envelope fell into Weasley's porridge.

Hermione nudged Blaise, who was buttering his toast with a frown on his face. "Don't look now, but Weasley's got a Howler." she whispered.

"A Howler?" he said loudly, causing the entire table to turn to look at the red haired boy, who was holding the envelope in his hands like it would explode any minute.

"This is going to be good." said Draco in anticipation.

And it was. They all watched in barely contained glee as a roar filled the great hall, and a woman's voice filled the Great Hall. All through out the rant, Weasley sank deeper and deeper in his seat. Draco didn't hide the ecstatic look on his face when he heard that Arthur Weasley was facing an inquiry at work. They all broke into laughter when the envelope burst into flames, leaving a pale faced Ronald Weasley to pick up its ashes.

"Sweet, sweet, justice." Blaise said snidely, and they laughed a little louder, causing the boy at the Gryffindor table to redden in both embarrassment and anger.

After breakfast, they all walked to Charms with the Ravenclaws, with a smell skip in their step, their day considerably better than it had started.

Flitwick had them practicing Engorgement charms on apples, and they tried to best one another by seeing how big they could grow their fruits. Blaise had enlarged his apple to the size of his head before having it burst, covering anyone within range with apple sauce. Hermione succeeded in making the apple she had been given to swell up to twice the size Blaise's had been, stopping the charm before it could explode, delighting Flitwick with her success.

The Ravenclaws glared at her enviously, it was not a normal occurrence to have someone from a different house do better than they did in classes, but Hermione Dagworth-Granger always seemed to be one step ahead of them. She smiled proudly at her work, pointedly ignoring the looks she was receiving from the opposite side of the class.

"Can you, _for once in your life_ , not be perfect? You're making the rest of us look bad." Blaise complained while they walked to Defense.

"Sorry." she said, smirking unapologetically. "Can't help it. It's an inborn trait."

"Bloody swot." he teased.

She laughed in reply, continuing to follow Draco as he led the group of Slytherins to class.

" _Signed photos,_ Potter?" he said abruptly. She craned her neck to see what had captured Draco's attention. A first year Gryffindor was standing next to Potter, camera in his hands, looking terrified of the blonde in front of him. "Oi! Everyone line up, Harry Potter's giving out signed photographs!" Draco roared.

"No, I'm not. Shut up, Malfoy." Potter said angrily.

"Hey, Potter," Blaise said lazily, "Maybe Weasley over there could use on of your photographs. He could sell it for a couple of sickles and earn more than his father does in a week."

"Eat slugs, Zabini." Weasley growled.

Malfoy sneered at him, "Careful now, don't want Mummy dear hearing you're causing trouble again, do you?"

"What's all this then?" a voice came from behind them. The Slytherins scattered as soon as they saw Lockhart appear, leaving Potter to fend for himself. They snickered as he posed for a photo with the professor, mocking him with huge smiles as he passed.

Lockhart cleared his throat, calling for silence, as the class found their seats. Hermione waited to see whether or not the man actually knew what he was talking about in his books, or if he was just all smile.

Turns out, he was the latter.

He had given them a joke of a test, asking questions like, _'What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?_ and ' _When did Gilderoy Lockhart receive his first Witch Weekly award?'_. Hermione answered them, of course, having read the books, but she passed her test while giving the man a look of disgust.

The man had even been _disappointed_ when half of the class hadn't known what his ideal birthday gift was. She tried to fight the sneer that was threatening to appear on her face. She turned to look at Theo sitting next to her. He had a similar look of disbelief on his face. They watched as the man unveiled a cage of Cornish pixies, they looked agitated and flighty.

To their surprise, the wanker _let the pixies free_ , and suddenly they were whizzing through the classroom, pulling hairs and throwing quills around. She heard Lockhart shout a ridiculous spell, and it did exactly what i=she expected it to do — nothing.

The professor gulped, "Consider this your first test!" he shouted, "Good luck!" he left the room, slamming the door behind them.

Hermione surveyed the room, students were diving under desks, trying to avoid the devilish creatures, others were fighting them off with their textbooks, she sighed, and shouted, _"Stupefy!"_

All at once, the pixies froze and dropped to the floor with soft thuds.

"Unbelievable." she muttered, slinging her bag over her shoulder and hurried out the door, her friends following closely behind her. "What the hell was Dumbledore thinking? The man's a joke!" she yelled to no one in particular.

"Maybe he was running out of choices for the job? It's cursed, after all." Pansy suggested.

"Anyone would have been better, honestly." she grumbled.

"Calm down, Mione." Theo chided. "It's just a class."

"It's a waste of my time." she said.

"Hermione, wake up!" Daphne said, pulling back her curtains and jumping onto the witch's bed.

"Daphne!" she screamed. "It's seven in the morning!"

"Yes, I know, we've got to go!" the blonde witch said, forcing her to sit up.

"What are you talking about, you crazy witch?" asked Hermione, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"It's Draco's first practice today, remember? He told us last night after dinner."

"Ugh. Did I say I was going to that?" she groaned. "I really should pay attention to what I say."

"Never mind that. Get up and get dressed already! Draco's been going on and on about his _skills_ for years and I want to call in on his bluff. Pansy and I have a bet going and I'm not losing any money today." she said decidedly.

Hermione pulled a green jumper over her hair, matching it with a black skirt, twisted her hair into a long plait and followed the other girl out of the room, still in a sleepy daze.

"Put me down five galleons for Draco telling the truth." she said.

Daphne glared at her, "You're betting against me?"

Hermione just shrugged in reply, lacking the energy to argue. They met the others in the common room, Draco had already gone up with the team.

"I can't believe you got her to wake up." Blaise whispered to Daphne.

"You just got to give her a little push, is all." the blonde said with a smirk.

"That was _not_ a little push, Daph. You scared the magic out of me." she said grumpily, joining Theo in a huff. He at least, seemed to have had a rough start to the day, too.

"You too?" he asked, running a hand through his hair.

"Yeah." she said. "What did Blaise do?"

"Levitated me off my bed upside down." he muttered, turning to glare at the grinning boy.

"You poor thing." she said teasingly.

"Oh, shut up." said Theo. "You look just as bad."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "There's no such thing."

"Quite right." he said, smiling. Hermione failed to notice the faint blush that had crept its way into the boy's cheeks.

"So Draco's the new Seeker, right? The same position as Potter?" she asked.

"Yeah, I hear he's not half bad at it too."

"Did you hear that from him?" she joked, to which Theo chuckled.

"Actually, Adrian Pucey told me after their try outs." he confided.

"Looks like I'm winning a bet today." she said triumphantly.

They got to the Quidditch pitch just in time to see the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams begin to walk towards each other.

"What are they doing here?" Pansy asked.

"Marcus _might_ have stolen Gryffindor's time slot this morning." Blaise admitted.

They crossed the field, approaching the two teams, and moved to stand behind the Slytherins.

"What's _he_ doing here?" asked Weasley, looking at Draco with loathing, taking in his Slytherin Quidditch robes.

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley." Draco said smugly. "Do you like our new brooms? They were a gift from my father?"

"You probably just bribed them to let you in, anyways." said Ron. "Harry's got in on pure talent, not money."

"We're lucky Draco's got both, aren't we?" she snapped. "Jealous that his broom's better than yours, are we, Weasley?"

"Oh, you'd know all about his broom, wouldn't you, you Slytherin bitch?" he replied sharply,

Draco, Theo and Blaise had all pulled out their wands before she could even reach for hers. " _How dare you insult her!"_ Draco yelled, his face reddening in fury.

Weasley had his wand drawn too, and before they knew what hit them, there was a loud bang and a jet of green light. Hermione braced herself, but nothing happened. She opened her eyes to fin Ron Weasley flat on his back, being held up by Potter and Longbottom. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead of words, he a handful of green slugs slipped out of his mouth and onto the pitch.

All around her, her friends were in fits of laughter, Draco especially, was fighting tears, clutching at his stomach. They watched as he was carted off by his friends, and the rest of the team dispersed. Now, the Slytherin team was free to practice, and their group left to sit by the stands.

"Hey, Hermione." Draco called out.

She turned, facing the boy questioningly.

"You okay?" he asked.

She gave him a sharp nod, and jogged to join Theo who had waited for her.

"You sure you're alright?" asked Theo stiffly.

"I'm fine." she said impatiently. "I'm not breakable. I don't need you to look after me."

"It's our job." the boy said.

"I look after myself, Theo." said Hermione. "Besides, he's said worse."

"What?" the boy said, looking at her sharply. "What do you mean, he's said worse?"

Hermione just shook her head at him. "Forget it Theo, it's nothing." she moved to sit down on one of the bleachers.

Theo sat next to her, his green eyes glaring into her own. "It's not nothing, Hermione. What did the git say?"

"He called me a blood purist bitch." she said blankly, noticing the boy tense. "It was last year, Theo, I've forgotten about it."

He didn't respond, just kept his eyes focused on the sky.

She found out at dinner later that day. Ronald Weasley walked into the Great Hall with a blackened eye and a cut lip, and, coincidentally, Theo was nowhere to be seen.

She had stormed into the Slytherin common rooms, making a beeline straight for the boy's dormitory, where she found him lounging on his bed, a book in hand.

"Theodore Nott!" she growled, making him jump in alarm. "What did you do!?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." he said, avoiding her gaze.

"You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about Theo." she growled at the boy.

"You don't deserve to get treated that way." he said. "I was only looking out —"

"I fight my own fights, Theodore!" she yelled. "I'm capable of defending myself!"

"You shouldn't have to!" he argued.

Hermione glared at him angrily.

"Look, Mione —" he began to say.

"What did you do to him, Theo?" she said.

He sighed in resignation. "It was one of the spells my father taught me over the summer. It conjures an invisible force that hits the opponent over and over again."

"That's a dark spell, Theo." she whispered.

"No, it's not." he said defensively. "It's a fifth year charm, but it's not dark."

"Theo, magic is classified based on intent. If you use a defense spell with the intent mainly to hurt, and not defend yourself, it's dark." she said.

Theo shook his head at her. "I didn't intend to hurt him just because i wanted to. It was defense on your part, Mione."

She sighed, approaching the boy, who had risen from his bed.

"Whatever the reason, Theo, I don't want you using spells like that, even if it's to defend me, or Pansy, or Daphne." she said. "Spells like that aren't for second years, and you're better than that. Promise me you won't, do it again?"

She twined her hand in his, and looked up at him, her eyes pleading. The boy seemed to lose all the tension that had been building in his body, and he let out a shaky breath.

"Fine." he agreed. "But promise you'll tell me if anyone says or does anything to you again."

"I promise." she said, and enveloped him in a tight hug. "I know you meant well, Theo. Thank you."

She turned to leave the room before any of their friends got back and started wondering what they had been doing.

Once more, she missed the wistful look Theo sent her as she walked away.


	10. Chapter 10: Samhain Night

"I told you not to eat those cursed custards." she said to the dark skinned boy next to her, who was clutching his stomach as they followed Draco up the stairs from the Great Hall. "You know what kind of odd food the house elves come up with for Halloween."

"Save the lecture, Hermione, I'm in pain here." Blaise grit through his teeth.

"Serves you right for being so greedy." said Hermione, but she put a soothing hand on his shoulder nonetheless, trying to guide him as they walked.

"Ouch!" yelped Blaise as he bumped into Theo in front of him. "What gives, Nott?"

The people in front of them had stopped walking, and the happy chatter had died suddenly. "Theo, what's wrong?" Hermione asked, trying to see over Theo's shoulder. The tall boy stepped aside so both Hermione and Blaise could see the sight in front of him.

Large words had been slashed across the wall in what looked like dark red liquid that was still dripping onto the floor. Hermione's stomach turned at the thought of what it could be. She noticed, with horror, that Filch's cat was hanging limply by its tail from one of the torch brackets. In front of the mess stood Potter, Weasley, and Longbottom.

"What the bloody hell?" Theo muttered under his breath.

"Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next. Mudbloods!" Draco shouted, breaking the silence. Hermione turned sharply at the boy,

who had a stupid grin on his face.

"Draco!" she hissed, grabbing him by the robes. He stumbled backwards, grey eyes glaring at her. "Language, Draco." she whispered, amber eyes flashing. They all watched Filtch stumble out of the crowd, his face a mask of absolute terror.

"My cat!" he cried.

"What's wrong with you, Hermione?" Draco asked, turning towards her, they ignored Flitch's anguished cries and accusations thrown towards Potter.

"What's wrong with _me_?" she hissed incredulously. "A cat's dead and hanging from the ceiling, blood's dripping from the walls, and you look positively ecstatic, and you're asking what's wrong with _me_?"

Draco glared at her evenly and turned around, just as Dumbledore arrived, and the old professor soon carted away the three boys along with the caretaker, who was still spitting expletives at the three students.

When they had left, those who remained burst into a flurry of conversation, hurrying to their respective common rooms so they could gossip in peace.

"What's the Chamber of Secrets?" asked Hermione, as the group of eight at around the fire.

"It's just a stupid myth." grumbled Theo. "Probably the Weasleys playing a prank."

"It's not a myth, and you know it." Draco snapped, pinning his gaze on Theo who glared back at him evenly.

"Come off it, Draco. It's a fairytale to scare children." said Blaise, rolling his eyes.

"It's not!" he snapped again.

"Hello?" said Hermione. "I still haven't a clue what's going on."

"The Chamber of Secrets was created by Salazar Slytherin before he left Hogwarts." Daphne finally said. "They say that he hid a monster in the bowels of the castle and only a true Heir of Slytherin could open the Chamber again, ordering the monster to do the job that was bestowed upon it; to rid Hogwarts of the impure."

Hermione frowned, "Do you mean —"

"Yes, she means Mudbloods." Draco said snidely. "It's not a myth. It's true, my father said so."

"So is everything your father says written law, Draco? I didn't pin you on being a believer of bedtime tales. What next? Babbity Rabbity was your childhood friend, then?" she challenged. "And don't use that foul word."

"It's not a fairytale." growled Draco. "It's real. Someone opened the Chamber years ago and killed a Mudblood girl."

Hermione stood abruptly, glaring at the pale boy with unhidden anger. "I told you to stop using that word!" she shrieked.

He stood slowly, antagonizing her. "It's what they are." said Draco.

She shook her head in frustration and huffed away, leaving a group of confused Slytherins and a concerned blonde haired girl in her wake.

"Hermione, are you okay?" her best friend had followed her into their dormitory, and found her wrapped in the covers of her bed, trying her best to pretend to be asleep.

"If you want to talk about it, you know where to find me." Daphne sighed.

Hermione swore at herself for letting her emotions get the best of her instead of just keeping quiet. Tomorrow, she would apologize and act like the pureblood she was, but she had to find a way to stop Draco from using that word. He may not understand her point of view now, but eventually he would, she just needed to ease him into it.

"I'm sorry." she found herself saying to the boy at breakfast the next day. She forced herself not to snap at him for the smug look on his face. "I sometimes forget I am not in France. You see, it is improper to use such language in front of a lady. It's an insult to her honor." her eyes shined with feigned hurt.

Draco tensed, probably remembering his mother's lessons just then. "No, I'm sorry, Hermione. I forgot myself for a moment." he said stiffly.

Immediately Hermione straightened her back and held her chin up, channeling her best Lyra Black, "Well, make sure you don't forget again." said Hermione, glaring at him the same way her own mother would when she behaved badly at the dinner table.

From then on, Draco never said the insult again, at least, not when he was in front of her.

Word soon spread that Filch's cat was not, in fact, dead, only petrified, and students began making their assumptions. One story was that Harry Potter had opened the Chamber of Secrets and took his revenge on Filch for giving him detention. Another story was that Draco Malfoy was the Heir of Slytherin since he had been shouting in the corridor. Students now avoided both boys like the plague, save for their friends, who knew that the allegations were nothing but gossip.

"It's preposterous." said Hermione as she and Daphne watched their friend walk through the corridor, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Gryffindors made a point of swerving away from him as he passed. "He isn't the Heir."

"How can you be so sure?" her friend asked.

"I know the Black family tree like the palm of my hand, Salazar Slytherin's blood isn't in our veins, nor is it in the Malfoys. My mother forced me to pay attention to things like these." she said.

"I think Draco's enjoying the attention anyway." said Daphne.

"I know." groaned Hermione. "He infuriates me sometimes."

"He wouldn't be Draco if he didn't." the blonde witch said with a laugh.

They entered their Defense of the Dark Arts classroom and sat themselves at the very back of the class. It was the only class that she allowed herself to relax, since Lockhart had taken to doing reenactments of his books, and none of the Slytherin second years wanted to be subjected to that form of torture, so they happily minded their own business and watched as Potter was forced to imitate a werewolf as Lockhart tackled him to the ground.

Once again, Blaise was dragging her through the castle grounds early one rainy Saturday morning. She had barely finished taming her hair when the boy had carted her off to join the rest of their friends who were already at the Quidditch pitch.

"Blaise, stop pulling my arm so hard, you're going to rip it right off, for Salazar's sake!" she yelled, trying to pry herself free.

"If you ran faster I wouldn't have to pull you!" said Blaise, who did not let go of her wrist.

Their friends had laughed when they arrived, Blaise with a bright smile on his face, and Hermione sending death glares his way. She plopped herself next to Theo and Daphne, as far as she could get from Blaise, and immediately, the girl next to her turned to her, wand in hand.

"Get that thing away from me!" Hermione yelped.

"I'm only going to draw an 'S' on your cheek, calm down." said Daphne, grabbing Hermione's face with her other hand.

"Is it National Abuse Hermione Day?" she grumbled as the witch painted a simple pattern on her cheek.

"Come off it." said Daphne. "I'm already finished."

She turned to face the field, watching as the Slytherin and Gryffindor teams walked out of their locker rooms and onto the field, mounting their brooms.

"Go Draco!" Pansy shrieked from next to Blaise, who was yelling profanities at the Gryffindors.

A sudden breeze blew through the grounds and she shivered, cursing herself for not having the sense to bring a jumper.

A large green Slytherin sweater was suddenly pushed into her hands. She looked up at Theo, who was smiling at her.

"Take it." he said.

"Won't you get cold?" she asked, seeing that he only had a thin sweater to keep himself warm.

"I'll be fine." he brushed off, and focused his attention to the players.

"Thank you." she said and slipped it on. It was too big on her, but warm nonetheless.

"Go Slytherin!" she cheered alongside Daphne as the team whizzed by. They all silently hoped that they would win this game. Draco was a rotten loser, and he'd be in a mood if he lost to Gryffindor, especially to Potter.

Madam Hooch blew the whistle and the team fell into position. Adrian Pucey scored almost immediately, earning a loud roar from the Slytherin stands, especially from Daphne, who still harbored a small crush towards the boy.

"What's wrong with that Bludger?" Theo muttered.

She followed his gaze and saw that one of the balls had begun to chase Potter. One of the Weasley twins hit is, sending it flying to one of the Slytherin Chasers, but right before it hit him, the ball swerved sharply and began chasing Potter once more.

The Gryffindor team called for a time out, and huddled together.

"Do you think someone tampered with it?" asked Hermione.

"Maybe. But I don't know who." said Theo. "If the Slytherin team did it, Draco would have told us."

Hermione nodded in agreement, knowing that their friend would take every chance to gloat about a prank against Potter. The game resumed, and the twins had stopped trailing Potter. The Gryffindor Seeker flew higher and higher, the Bludger following his every move. She saw Draco shout something at Potter, who just flew past him, much to the other boy's annoyance.

Potter had stopped suddenly, looking at Draco. Hermione saw what he was looking at, the Golden Snitch was hovering right above Draco.

"It's the Snitch!" she yelled.

The rest of her friends followed suit, trying to get Draco's attention, but he was too far off to hear them.

"Shit!" Blaise yelled in glee.

Hermione had been so busy yelling at Draco that she had not seen the other Seeker get hit by the rogue Bludger. Out of nowhere, Potter had careened forward, towards Draco, who had stopped laughing. They watched as Potter flew closer to the other boy, extending his arm to try and swipe at the Snitch, he was dangerously balancing on his broom, and suddenly he was falling.

A Gryffindor screamed as the spectators watched the boy fall quickly, landing in the mud with a loud thud. Daphne and Hermione flinched at the sound. But the only thing Blaise focused on was the Snitch in Potter's muddy hands.

"Bloody hell!" he yelled, throwing his scarf to the ground.

Lockhart had ran towards the fallen boy, wielding his wand. There was a heated conversation between the two, and the older wizard raised his wand, and a blue light shot from it, hitting Potter's arm, which he had been clutching in pain.

Hermione forced herself not to squeal when the boy tried to raise his arm, only to have it flop downwards from his elbow, looking oddly like gelatin.

Lockhart hadn't mended his bones. He had removed them.

This brightened their moods considerably, and Blaise guffawed loudly at the sight.

She stifled a laugh, only held back by the thought of a dour Draco, who had once again been bested by the Chosen One.


	11. Chapter 11: Le Témoin

They had had to endure Draco's raving for an entire day, his incessant jibes about Scarhead and Weasel were getting on her nerves so much so that she practically sagged in relief when he had announced to the common room that he was off to bed, dragging the rest pos the boys with him. Blaise and Theo looked at her for help, but the three girls were already running back to their own dormitories, scared that Draco would change his mind and come back for another round of Potter slander.

It seems the Slytherins were once again the last to know the gossip for the morning, although this time, it wasn't It wasn't the latest break up or the latest tryst discovered by Filch in a broom closet, no. Today, the Great Hall was filled with somber whispers and stolen glances at the Gryffindor table. Colin Creevy, the annoying Muggleborn boy who had asked Potter for a signed photograph, had been petrified the night before. Hermione was filled with a sense of dread. Draco had been right. She turned to look at him, but even though he had won the argument, he didn't look triumphant. Instead, a blank look had taken place on the boy's face. She saw something flash in the boy's eyes - was that guilt? It seemed as though their resident blood purist was battling with his conscience. Maybe there was hope for him after all.

She had gone to library directly after breakfast, wanting to see if she could find anything on the Chamber of Secrets. So far, she only knew what Daphne had told her, and what Draco said about it being opened once, fifty years ago.

Upon flipping through book after book of myths and legends and mythical creatures, even biographies of Salazar Slytherin, she had found close to nothing. The books that had mentioned it only had a short article about the Chamber, and most of what was written, she already knew.

Hermione stood, sending all the books back to the shelves and left the library early that night, with a respectful nod to Madam Pince. She made her way to the dungeons, deep in thought.

"Umph!" Hermione rubbed her head, where she had collided with someone who was now on the floor. They were in the first floor corridor, near the Great Hall.

"Neville?" said Hermione, looking at the boy who had flushed in embarrassment.

"Er, sorry. Didn't see you there Hermione." he mumbled.

"It's alright, watch your step next time." she said with a smile, watching him scamper off. Pausing to wonder why he had been there so late at night. Thinking that he might've just left something during dinner, she walked away, eager to get a good night's rest.

"You're supposed to stir it four times, then anti-clockwise, but Papa told me to do that, and add another clockwise stir but lower the heat for only ten seconds before completing it." Hermione told Theo.

He did as he was told, following Hermione's movements on his own potion. Both of their brews turned a deep emerald green and thickened perfectly. They waved their wands and put the flames out, bringing a lid over each of their cauldrons, finishing ahead of the rest of the class.

"Your father's a saint." Theo said to her.

"I know — " she was interrupted by an loud bang. Her first instinct was to duck for cover, like her father taught her whenever a potion went awry. She was the only one of the Slytherins who had been saved from getting splashed with Swelling Solution.

"Oh, Morgana, Theo." she said with worry after she had gotten up. The boy's ear was three times its normal size and was weighing down once side of his head so he had to lean it one way. She look, seeing the other students in a similar state. Professor Snape was hurriedly administering Deflating Draught to those who had been affected. When everyone was back to normal, the professor swept over to the cauldron that had caused the explosion and fished out what looked like the charred body of a used firework.

"Who do you think did it?' whispered Daphne when class had been dismissed.

"It was Potter." said Draco, whose nose was nose back to its normal size.

"You always say it's Potter." Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

"That's because it always _is_ him!" he said pointedly.

A week later, Snape still hadn't found the culprit, but the incident had been forgotten by most of the students. Now, they were busy waiting excitedly in the Great Hall for the first Dueling Club meeting. Almost the entire school had shown up, and students were pushing others around to get to the front of the golden stage.

The stage, which had been empty a moment ago, now had a smiling Lockhart in plum robes swooshing about, with a glowering Professor Snape standing behind him.

" _Lockhart's_ teaching us?" she whispered in disbelief. "What's he going to do? Hex himself?"

"You give him too much credit, Hermione." Blaise snickered. "We don't even know if he can _throw_ a hex."

The Slytherins laughed cruelly at the joke, and they all turned to glare at the professor, as if challenging him to give it his best shot. They erupted in laughter once again, some of them even cheering for their head of house, when Snape disarmed the other professor with a quick flick of the wand, sending the other man flying backwards in a burst of scarlet light.

The two professors then proceeded to pair them up, she got partnered off with Parvati Patil, from Gryffindor, who was sending her a glare. Hermione only raised her brow at the girl. Draco had been partnered with Potter, and was now smirking at the other boy, Daphne was paired with a short Hufflepuff girl, and was staring her down.

All the students bowed when instructed. "Now, cast your charms to disarm — and disarm only — when I count to three. One … two … _three!"_

Hermione had swung her wand so quickly that she shot a quick " _Langlock!"_ at her opponent, making her unable to say the words to disarm her.

" _Expelliarmus_!" she yelled, and Patil's wand tore out of her hand and into Hermione's. The other girl looked livid at being unable to speak.

"Stop! I said disarm only!" Lockhart was shouting. She turned to look at what was causing the commotion. It seemed that Potter and Draco had done more than just disarm, because Draco was on the floor in giggles while Potter had suddenly broke into a rapid dance.

" _Finite Incantatem!"_ Snape shouted, taking charge of the situation. The two boys quickly regained their senses. The rest of the class was in a state, Neville and a Hufflepuff boy were on the floor, Weasley was apologizing profusely to another Gryffindor, but it was Millie Bulstrode who stole the show — she had Lavender brown whimpering in pain, trapped in a headlock. It took both Weasley and Potter to pry Millie off of the other girl, who was looking as though she was about to burst into tears.

"I think now would be a perfect time to teach you how to _deflect_ spells." Lockhart said. "Now, Longbottom, Finch-Fletchley, why don't you step up —"

Snape intervened immediately. "Malfoy and Potter would make a better example, Professor Lockhart." he said, his lips curling.

Draco and Potter stepped onto the stage, Potter going to Lockhart, and Draco to Snape, who quickly whispered something into the boy's ear, making Draco smirk. Lockhart seemed to be teaching Potter how to do a wand movement, only succeeding in dropping his wand. Hermione stalled down a laugh.

The two boys bowed, and when Lockhart shouted go, Draco raised his wand quickly, and bellowed " _Serpensortia!_ "

A long black snake exploded from the tip of his wand, falling on the floor, ready to strike. The rest of the class backed away in alarm.

"Don't worry, Potter." Snape said, with thinly veiled delight in his eyes. "I'll get rid of it —"

"Allow me!" Lockhart interrupted, flicking his wand before Snape could protest. There was a loud bang and the snake flew into the air, landing with a thud. Angered, it slithered towards Finch-Fletchley, aiming to strike.

Someone screamed from behind her. She waited for the snake to strike — but it never did. A loud hissing sound came from the other side of the room — from … Potter?

The snake had retreated, and was now looking straight at the dark head boy. Hermione looked on with shock.

"What do you think you're playing at?" shouted Finch-Fletchley, and stormed out of the Hall.

The Slytherins regrouped quickly, and hurried out of the hall, whispering furiously among themselves.

" _Potter's a fucking Parselmouth?"_ Draco hissed, as they rounded a corner.

"Where the hell did that come from?" Pansy asked.

"I bloody _knew_ he was hiding something." said Blaise.

"Do you think he's the Heir of Slytherin?" Goyle said.

They all stopped in their tracks, turning to look at Greg, then at each other.

"No." said Blaise.

"Of course, not." huffed Draco.

"It can't be." Pansy rationalized.

"Or could it?" wondered Theo.

"I'm writing to my father." Draco announced, hurrying into the passage to their common room.

"I am, too." said Theo.

"I'm going to write to my grand-papa." Hermione said, and the group separated, each composing their own letters, filled with questions about Parseltongue and the Chamber, and Salazar Slytherin.

The reply to their letters was unanimous. No, Potter couldn't possibly be the Heir. No, they didn't know who opened the Chamber the last time. No, Parseltongue could not be learned, it was a gift.

"Maybe Potter's father opened the Chamber last time?" Blaise theorized.

"No, my father said that James Potter was just a few years below him at Hogwarts, and that wasn't a long time ago." Draco said.

"His grandfather then?" he tried again.

"No, my grand-pere went to school with his grandfather, and that was too long ago." said Hermione.

"So it can't be him." Daphne said. "He couldn't have opened the Chamber of Secrets."

"No, couldn't." Hermione agreed, though something didn't quite feel right.

Out of nowhere, Pansy jumped out of her seat on one of the large cushions, shrieking, and pointing. They followed where she was pointing, only to find a few spiders slipping through a crack in the wall.

"Bloody hell, Pans, they're just spiders." said Blaise, rubbing his ears.

The witch glared at him angrily, and moved to sit next to Draco on the couch.

Hermione walked out of the library in a huff. How could a witch study properly when the table next to her was filled with chattering Hufflepuffs. She had already heard her prescribed amount of _"Is Harry Potter the Heir?"_ for the day, and she wasn't going to let senseless wonderings distract her from her lessons.

She stamped up the stairs, rounding a corner, into a dark corridor. ' _Why did I have to choose this passage?'_ she thought to herself _"It's always so dark here.'_

She looked around nervously, the torches had been blown out by the cold winds, and the draft in the castle sent goosebumps down her arms. Hermione shivered, and whispered a soft _"Lumos.",_ hastening her steps. She heard a loud thud from somewhere in front of her.

Trying to get out of the dark as soon as possible, she broke into a half-run, only to find Harry potter standing over something — no, _someone._

"Potter?" she asked, creeping up to him. He turned sharply, and she could see what he had been looming over. She gasped, "What did you _do_?" she asked in horror.

Justin Finch-Fletchley was lying on the floor, his body rigid and stiff, an expression of surprise frozen on his face, and above him, floating, was the Gryffindor Ghost, but instead of his usual spectral white, he had become black and smoky, his expression mirroring that of Finch-Fletchley's.

"Dagworth, it wasn't me!" Potter said frantically, realizing how it must have looked. "I swear to Merlin it wasn't me!"

"That's not how it looks, Potter." she said, fear creeping into her bones. Her wand was still in her hand, the Lumos casting a soft, eerie light upon them.

A door to the left of them opened with a bang, and Peeves the Poltergeist came flying out, screaming, when he saw them. "ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAAAAACK!"

Door after door burst open, students and professors flooded out. She still had her wand pointed at Potter. McGonagall came rushing to the scene, her class trailing behind her, and silenced the corridor with a loud bang from her wand, ordering everyone back to their classes. MacMillan, the Hufflepuff who had been yammering in the library arrived, panting, took one look at the frozen boy, and yelled, " _Caught in the act!_ ", pointing at Potter.

"Enough, MacMillan!" said McGonagall sharply.

"Professor, I saw him!" said Hermione. "Potter was standing over him!"

"Miss Dagworth-Granger, save your accusations for later." the professor said, before barking out orders. Justin Finch-Fletchley was carted up to the hospital wing, and MacMillan was instructed to waft the ghost up the stairs with a large fan the Transfiguration professor conjured out of thin air.

"Potter, Dagworth-Granger, this way." she said, when they were the only ones remaining in the corridor.

"Professor, I swear I didn't —" Potter started to say.

"This is out of my hands, Potter." said McGonagall curtly.

She led them around the corner, stopping in front of a large stone gargoyle.

"Lemon drop!" said Professor McGonagall. The gargoyle sprang to life, hopping aside as the wall behind him separated to reveal a spiral staircase. They stepped onto it, rising upwards in circles, until a large wooden door with a griffin shaped brass knocker appeared. Dumbledore's quarters.

The door opened silently when Professor McGonagall rapped on it with the knocker, allowing them entry. The professor ordered them to wait, and left, leaving them to observe their surroundings. Potter moved next to her, he was walking quietly around the large claw-footed desk, and lifted a hat off one of the shelves. Was that the Sorting Hat?

"Potter," hissed Hermione. "we aren't supposed to touch anything."

The boy ignored her, and raised the had to his head. He seemed to be having a conversation with the hat. Hermione looked on in confusion. _What is he doing?,_ she wondered to herself. She rolled her eyes at the odd boy, and looked around. Dumbledore's office was filled with several odd things, little instruments spinning on table tops, once in a while emitting a puff of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of witches and wizards, old headmasters and headmistresses, snoozing in the frames.

Potter had taken the Sorting Hat off, and placed it back on the shelf, backing away. A strange gagging sound filled the room, and they both turned to find out where it was coming from. A phoenix stood on top of a golden perch, looking old and sickly. A couple of feathers fell off from his wings, and out of nowhere, it burst into flames.

Hermione took a step forward curiously, she had never seen a phoenix before, only read about them in books, and to see one on a Burning Day was fascinating. The bird gave a loud shriek, and then the fire died, leaving behind a pile of ash on the floor.

The office door opened, and Dumbledore came in looking somber.

"Professor," Potter gasped. "Your bird — I couldn't do anything — he caught on fire —"

Dumbledore and Hermione both smiled, surprising the boy.

"About time," the Headmaster said. "he's been looking dreadful for days."

Potter just looked at the man, with a tunnel look on his face. Both the professor and Hermione chuckled. The professor turned to look at her with a twinkle in his eye. "Would you care to explain to Harry, Miss Dagworth-Granger?"

She nodded respectfully at the man. "Fawkes is a phoenix, Potter. The burst into flames when it's time to die, and are reborn out of the ashes. Look.."

They all looked down to see a tiny newborn bird pop out of the ashes, chirping happily.

"Shame that you had to see him on a Burning Day," said Dumbledore, taking a seat behind the desk. "He's really very handsome most of the time. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, their tears have healing powers, and they make faithful pets."

Before Dumbledore could address why they were in his office, his door burst open, Hagrid stomping through it, with a dead rooster in his hands.

"It wan' Harry, Professor!" he said urgently. "I was talkin' ter him _seconds_ before that kid was found —"

Dumbledore tried to interject, but the large man kept rambling on.

" — it can't have bin him, I swear it, Professor Dumbledore —"

"Hagrid —" Dumbledore tried to say.

"Yeh've got the wrong boy, sir, I _know_ Harry would never —"

"Hagrid!" Dumbledore almost yelled. "I do not think that Harry attacked all those people."

Hermione snapped her head to face the old professor once again. "But professor, I _saw_ him." she said.

"Did you see him actually petrify Mr Finch-Fletchley?" the professor asked. "Did you catch Harry in the act, Miss Dagworth-Granger?"

"Well, no. But—" said Hermione.

"Do you think, that Harry, a second year, like yourself, has the power to petrify an individual?" her professor pushed. "Do you believe that he would intentionally hurt someone, just for their blood?"

She sputtered, the professor had his knowing eyes staring straight at her. "No, of course not, but—"

"Miss Dagworth-Granger, I do not believe that Harry did all these horrible things, and neither should you." Dumbledore said. "Now, if you would so kindly wait outside, I would like to talk to Harry alone."

She left the room, the door slamming shut behind her. She walked down the steps, her head swimming in confusion at what had just happened.


	12. Chapter 12: Holidays at Hogwarts

"You're sure about not going home for the holidays?" Daphne asked for the fifth time that day. The Hogwarts Express would be leaving soon to bring the students back into London, and Daphne and Hermione were at the castle gates, she had helped her friend with her trunk, wanting to send her off.

"Yes, my Papa caught a case of Spattergoit while he was working abroad, and Maman doesn't want me to get it." Hermione explained sadly. "It's depressing, really. I miss them all so much."

"Don't worry, Hermione." her friend said. "I think Draco, Vince, Greg, and Millie are staying, too."

"Well, at least I won't be alone." said Hermione.

"It's only for a couple of weeks. It'll be over before you know it." eased Daphne.

"You're right." she said, squaring her shoulders. "Well, I'll see you in January, Daph. Have a good a good Christmas."

Daphne moved to envelope her in a hug. "I'll miss you." she said. "Don't spend the _entire_ break studying, alright?"

She laughed, "I'll try my best not too."

"Bye, Hermione!" her friend said, and went to join the rest of the students.

Hermione watched them leave. It had begun to snow heavily, and the castle grounds were covered with a generous dusting of snow. The Black Lake had completely frozen over, which made her wonder about the giant squid.

"Ouch!" she yelped, feeling a something soft hit her on the back of her shoulder. She whipped around to see what remained of Slytherin House grinning back at her. Draco, Millie, Greg, and Vince were all holding snowballs in their hands, and they all had a mischievous glint in their eyes.

She yelled in alarm and dove for cover behind a wall, trying to scoop snow in her hands. Laughter rang all around when she hit Draco right in the nose. The blonde shook the snow off his face and raised a hand to retaliate when Millie landed a snowball on his chest.

Who said Slytherins were stuck up snobs?

Hermione soon discovered that Millie wasn't much of a people person, and preferred the company of her cat, Draco was always off with Greg and Vince, probably trying to find Potter and terrorize him. She was more than happy to stay in the library and read, sometimes striking up a conversation with Madam Pince. Hogwarts had lost the familiar sound of chattering students, and hundreds of feet walking the halls, now, her footsteps echoed when she walked, and even the library seemed more quiet than usual.

She took to sitting by a large window, sometimes, she would take a break from whatever she was reading and just watch the snow fall outside, losing track of time as she lost her train of thought, wondering what her mother was doing, or whether Mimi still made her favorite Profiteroles now that she wasn't going to be spending Christmas at home. She thought about their Christmas tree, and the odd pine and sandalwood scent that seemed to fill her grandfather's study during this time of the year, she thought about her Papa, and how he was faring, whether or not the illness had started to clear up.

It was during one of these moments that Draco crept up to her table, taking a seat across from her, watching as the witch stared at nothing in particular.

He cleared his throat loudly, snapping the girl out of her wonderings.

"Oh, have you been sitting there long?" she said dazedly.

"No, not very long." the boy said with a smile. He really had such a nice smile, his trademark smirk made him look much too foxlike. "Daydreaming?"

"Thinking." she said vaguely.

"Sickle for your thoughts?" he said.

"Just thinking about home." she replied. "What are you doing in the library? Where are Vince and Greg?" she looked around, as if the two boys could pop out at any second.

"They went to nick some food from the kitchen." said Draco. "Honestly, all they do is eat."

She stifled a snicker, and failed, making the boy smile wider. "Getting tired of your friends, Draco?"

"Honestly?" he asked. "Yeah."

At his admission, she raised a brow in question.

"Well, they aren't the best conversationalists, as you might have noticed." he pointed out, to which she only nodded in reply. "It just gets boring without Blaise and Theo around."

"Draco Malfoy? Bored?" she gasped in mock horror. "You must be in torture. What happened to insulting Potter? I thought it was a hobby of yours."

"Oh, come off it, it's not like you're doing anything fun." he said. "Besides, I can't find Scarhead anywhere."

"I'm writing to my parents, for your information. I just finished asking them to buy the gifts I'm giving you lot for Christmas."

"What are you getting me?" he asked excitedly. "Your present last year was epic."

"I know." she said with a smirk.

"So?" he said expectantly. "What are you getting me?"

"What makes you think I'll tell you?" she said.

"Oh, come on." he complained. "I'm going to find out anyway."

"Exactly, so be patient and wait." she said snottily.

He glared at her before sighing in resignation. "Fine." he finally said. "By the way, have you done your Charms essay? I did mine, but I'm not sure about the difference between the wand movements of _Bombarda_ and _Bombarda Maxima_."

Hermione moved to his side of the table, looking over the essay he had pulled out of his bag, pleasantly surprised that he had done most of it correctly. She shouldn't have been, of course, Draco was brilliant at Charms, Flitwick would comment on his work every other class.

They remained like that until dinner, talking about Charms and Potions, and when they tired of that, she allowed Draco to ramble on about Quidditch, not even caring that she didn't understand half of what he was saying. She was just happy that she had someone to talk to other than the librarian, who was looking at the two students with a watchful eye, thinking to herself how much they looked like their parents.

Unbeknownst to most people, Madam Pince was well aware that Lyra Black and Lucius Malfoy had once sat in the exact same spot their children were sitting in now, and that a long time ago, they had been more than friends, separated only by marriage contracts, a beautiful cousin, and a handsome Frenchman. She wondered whether the two children would follow in their parents footsteps, or a different path entirely, only time would tell.

She woke up early on Christmas morning, and raced down the stairs after shrugging on a jumper and sweeping up her hair in a messy plait. Draco, Vince, Greg, and Millie were already sitting in the common room, surrounded by a pile of torn gift wrappers.

"Hermione!" Draco said cheerily. "Thanks for these." he was holding up a pair of green dragon hide Quidditch gloves that were specially charmed to ensure that the wearer kept his hands safely on the broom. She saw that Vince and Greg were already busy eating the box of bonbons she had sent each of them.

She smiled, sitting down next to her own pile of presents, and busied herself with opening them precisely, setting aside the wrapping paper.

All in all, she had received a box of silk hair ribbons from her mother, a, old looking book about obscure potions from her father, a peacock feather quill from her grandfather, a leather journal monogrammed with her initials from Daphne, green mittens from Pansy, a box of Sugar Quills from Blaise, a book about Animagi transformation from Theo, boxes of Honeydukes chocolate from Vine and Greg, and a blue and silver cashmere scarf from Draco.

She turned to face the blonde boy, who was looking at her intently. "Blue?" she asked.

"You wear it a lot." he shrugged.

"Oh," she said softly, she hadn't known that he'd noticed. "Thank you."

"You missed one, by the way." he said.

"What?" asked Hermione in confusion.

"You missed a present." Draco pointed. True enough a large box still sat in, hidden behind the Christmas tree. She looked at it curiously, wondering who it could be from. She opened the box carefully, and peered inside. Immediately, her nose was filled with a sweet smell of chocolate.

"Oh, mon Dieu! Mimi, you brilliant girl." she sighed, taking out a puff pastry and biting into it. The elf must have put the box under a freezing charm, because the custard ice cream was cold in her mouth. She offered the box to her friends, who took one each happily.

"Who's Mimi?" asked Draco.

"My house elf, she's an angel." she said with a small smile. "I still have to send send her my present later."

"You give your house elves presents?" he said in surprise.

"Well, _I_ do." she said. "Not clothes, of course, just a card of thanks or a Sickle to 'pay' her."

"She's just a house elf." he said, thoroughly confused.

"Not _just_ a house elf." she said, brushing the crumbs off her hands. "She raised me as a baby, she helps me do _everything_ , I don't know what I'd do without her, and she's such a dear friend."

"She's a house elf, that's her job." Draco snorted.

"Yes, it is." she said thoughtfully. "But just because they have to do it doesn't mean that we're given the right to treat them badly. Mimi already does everything for us at our command, why should I be horrible her?"

The boy next to her didn't reply. She thought she saw a look of guilt flash in his eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

To be fair, the Great Hall looked marvelous for Christmas dinner. The elves had set up a dozen frost covered evergreens, and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe floated from the ceiling, and enchanted snow was falling onto their heads.

Draco, to no one's surprise, was making loud remark's about Potter's sweater, which looked like it had been made from scratch, the other boy acted like he couldn't hear, but she saw him tense. She ignored them, and turned to talk to Millie, who, over the week, had warmed up to her considerably.

"Does Dumbledore think that making us sing carols over and over again will make this any less depressing?" she whispered.

To her surprise, the girl laughed. "I know. If I have to sing one more line of 'Come rest ye merry hippogriffs, I might just hit someone."

"Hermione, do you want to go back to the common room?" asked Draco. She turned around to find him waiting expectantly, already rising from the table.

"What about Greg and Vince?" she asked.

"Are you kidding?" he snorted. "They're going to stay here until the elves wretch their plates away."

She chuckled, and moved to stand up. "Do you want to come along, Millie?" she asked kindly.

"No, I'll stay here for a bit." the girl replied with a small smile.

"Want to play a round of chess?" Draco asked, when she had settled herself in front of the fire.

"I'm rubbish at chess, you know that." she groaned. "Blaise always beats me."

"I'll teach you." he offered. "Come on, it'll be more fun than reading all day." She conceded, and he brought the chess set to where she was, setting it on top of the coffee table. He began lecturing her about different moves and patterns, which she listened to eagerly. And that's how Greg and Vince found them half an hour later, immersed in a game of Wizard's chess, her bishop had just sliced the head off his knight.

"There you two are." Draco said, when they stumbled out of the passage. "Have you two been pigging out in the Great Hall all this time?"

The two boys stared blankly back at them.

"Come on then, take a seat." Hermione said with a smile. She didn't talk to Greg or Vince very often, but just because they didn't really have much to offer conversation-wise, they were sweet really, when they weren't being Draco's henchmen. They bustled over, plopping down on the couch in front of Draco and Hermione, looking lost.

"Hold on, I have something to show he." he said, getting up. "Give me a moment. Sorry to ruin the game Hermione."

"It's fine." she said, waving her hand at him, and he left, running down to the boy's dormitories. He returned a few minutes later, holding a newspaper clipping, and handed it over to her.

It had been cut out of the Daily Prophet, and was about Arthur Weasley's inquiry at the Ministry, and Lucius Malfoy's demand that Weasley step down from his post. She looked back at Draco, who was smiling evilly. She chuckled and passed the clipping to Greg.

'Do you think they'll sack him?" she asked.

"I hope so." he said. "Father's using all his power to get them to do it. Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much he should just go join them. Honestly, with the way those Weasleys behave, you'd never know they were purebloods."

"Not everyone's lucky enough to be you, Draco." she retorted.

"Oi, what's up with you, Crabbe?" Draco snapped. Vince had gone an odd shade of red.

"Stomachache." he grunted.

"Well, go up to the hospital wing, and give those Mudbloods a kick from me." Draco snickered. "You know, I'm surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't reported the attacks yet, I suppose Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon. Father's always said Dumbledore's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. He loves Muggle-borns. A decent headmaster would never've let slime like that Creevey in."

"Draco…" she warned, her eyes flashing.

He looked at her in alarm, and muttered an apology.

"I don't even know why people think _Potter's_ the Heir of Slytherin." he continued.

"Well, it's not like _you_ know who it is." she said, knowing that it was a sore point for the boy.

"I wish I did." he muttered.

"You must have some idea who's behind it all…" said Greg.

"You know I haven't, Goyle. How many times do I have to tell you?" snapped the blonde. "Father won't tell me _anything_ about the last time the Chamber was opened either. Of course, it was fifty years ago, so it was before his time but he knows all about it, and just won't say because it'll look suspicious if I know too much. Has your grandfather said anything to you, Hermione?"

Greg and Vince turned to look at her. She rolled her eyes. "We've been over this already. He doesn't know anything except that last time, a Muggleborn girl _died._ I do hope no one dies this time." she said worriedly.

Draco snorted next to her, earning a sharp look from Hermione.

"Was the person who was expelled last time caught?" asked Crabbe.

"They were." she said. "I think whoever it was got expelled. Maybe they're still in Azkaban."

"That's what my father says. He been busy lately, with the Ministry and the school on top of it." Draco said. "Did you know that they raided the Manor again last week?"

"I bet Aunt Cissa didn't like that." she said with a smirk.

"She didn't." Draco agreed. "They didn't find much though. All our valuable stuff is hidden in our own secret chamber under the drawing room floor."

"Ho!" said Crabbe.

They turned to look at him, and he flushed a deep red. They jumped to their feet.

"Hospital Wing. Medicine." Crabbe croaked, then sprinted out of the common room, Goyle trailing behind him.

"Well, that was odd." she said, watching the two boys disappear down the passage.

"You never know with those two." muttered Draco. "Up for another game?"

She nodded, and the chess pieces reset themselves automatically.


	13. Chapter 13: Serpentine Secrets

"Miss us?" Blaise asked, as he settled himself on the couch, propping his feet up on an ottoman.

"Daphne and Theo? Yes." she said with a smirk, moving to sit next to Daphne and Blaise. "You? Not so much."

"Aw, come on, Hermione." the boy said with a pout that would have girls fawning over him. "Spending three weeks alone with Draco must have been horror for you, just admit it."

"Rather spend a few weeks with him than you." she said teasingly, earning her a shove from the boy.

"Anything interesting happen while we were gone?" Theo asked from the loveseat to her left.

"Nothing mind boggling, no." she said.

"Really?" Daphne asked. "No fights with Potter? No spats with Weasley? No embarrassing blunders from Longbottom?"

"Oddly, none." said Hermione. "The Golden Trio were their perfect little Gryffindor selves over the break."

Draco snorted.

"Oh, hush." she admonished. "They could just breathe and you'd find something wrong with them."

The group laughed, the sound filling the common room, mixing with the noises of the rest of Slytherin. A sense of a calm filled her at being once again surrounded by the familiar din of voices, and footsteps thundered all across Hogwarts once more.

With classes back in session, whispers about the Heir of Slytherin came to life once again. Potter was still being avoided by most of the school, and MacMillan still hissed at him when he passed. Slytherins couldn't be bothered with the gossip, and they certainly weren't sharing their knowledge that Potter couldn't _possibly_ be the Heir. But the whispers only grew as the Mandrakes went through puberty and had to be repotted.

Amidst the talk about the Chamber of Secrets, their Defense of the Dark Arts teacher had somehow managed to convince the other professors that what Hogwarts castle needed was a vomit-inducing pink and red covered Great Hall on February fourteenth. Hermione and her friends looked around, nose wrinkled at the lurid pink flowers that decorated the walls, and the red heart confetti raining down on them.

"What the bloody hell is this?" Theo muttered under his breath.

"Morgana, look at Lockhart!" whispered Daphne, in a fit of giggles. "I think I own a dress that looks quite like that."

Their professor was waving for silence at the teacher's table, in bright pink robes that matched the decor, the professors on either side of him sat stoney faced as he began shouting.

"Happy Valentine's Day" he shouted. "I have arranged this little surprise for you all, and it doesn't end here!"

Lockhart clapped his hands, and the doors to the Great Hall opened to reveal a dozen dwarfs wearing golden wings and carrying harps with surly expressions on their faces.

"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" he announced. "They will be roving around the school to deliver your valentines!" Hermione, Daphne, and Pansy erupted in giggled, and the boys rolled their eyes.

The entire day, dwarves barged into their classes to deliver valentines, much to the annoyance of their professors. Once in a while, the dwarves would burst into song, as they had seen with Harry Potter earlier in the day, but usually they would just drop a pink envelope in your lap and trod off to find their next victim.

By the end of the day, Daphne had amassed quite a collection of little pink notes, some signed, most not. Even Hermione had been given a couple of cards, much to her embarrassment. The dwarf had burst in during Transfiguration, dropping three envelopes into her lap, and promptly taking his leave.

Daphne had forced her to open them once they were out of Professor McGonagall's watchful eye.

"Daph, I don't really care about this." she whined, waving the envelopes in the air.

"Well, I do." Daphne said, snatching them out of her hand and ripping them open. "They aren't signed." she noted, with disappointment. Hermione just rolled her eyes.

"This one says he thinks you're smart, and he likes your hair." her friends said, holding out the first envelope. "They used blue ink, so maybe Ravenclaw?"

"This one says your accent is nice." she said, reading the second note.

"I have an accent?" asked Hermione, surprised.

"No, not really." said Daphne. "But sometimes, when you're talking in class and you get carried away, you have this French lilt. No one would notice if they weren't really listening."

"I never knew." she said with a frown.

"Your English is impeccable, Hermione." Daphne said with a roll of her eyes. "Oh! This one's poetry!" she was holding the last note in her hands, having handed Hermione the other two.

 _"She walks in beauty through the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies…"_ Hermione snatched the paper out of her friends hands quickly.

"That's Lord Byron!" she exclaimed. "But he's a Muggle poet."

"Maybe they know you like Muggle poetry." shrugged Daphne.

"Nobody knows I like it but you, Daph." she said with a frown.

"Maybe it's just a stroke of luck, then." he friend said. "A lot of boys send poetry on Valentine's."

"Maybe." Hermione said, gazing down at the poem in her hands.

Hermione was in a bit of a fix. She had checked almost all the boxes next to the subjects in the list of electives Professor Snape had given her, save for Muggle Studies. She knew it was normal to pick more than one, but she had picked at least three or four.

"Professor Snape?" she said timidly, approaching the professor after their class.

"How may I help you, Miss Dagworth-Granger?" he said in a voice that sounded as if he didn't really want to help her at all.

"Well, sir, I was going over the list of new subjects," she said holding the parchment in her hands, setting it on his desk. "and well…"

"I see." he said, glancing at the parchment. "Are you sure, Miss Dagworth-Granger? You have the credentials for it, I am aware, but do you really wish to proceed with this?"

"Yes, sir." she said firmly. "I filed the form last night, and I've already written a letter of appeal to the Headmaster."

"Very well then, Miss Dagworth-Granger. I'll see what I can do." the man said.

Hermione nodded in thanks and turned to the door, sighing in relief.

"Hermione!" a voice called from somewhere down the hall. "We've been looking all over for you."

Daphne came running down the corridor alongside Theo and Draco, panting and gasping for air.

"What's going on?" she asked in confusion.

"Quidditch — canceled." gasped Theo.

"Attack — again." Draco breathed out.

"Another attack?" asked Hermione, her insides feeling like lead. "Who is it this time?"\

"Ravenclaw prefect, Clearwater, I think." said Daphne. "We're supposed to go back to the common rooms."

Hermione nodded grimly, and the group of four set off for the safety of their Slytherin common room.

"My father's coming." Draco said, once they had settled, the room was tense, and everyone was talking in hushed whispers. "The board of governors have decided on Dumbledore's suspension."

"They're removing him?" Pansy asked.

"Only temporarily." he said. "Father says that it's for our safety."

Hermione wondered whether their safety was really at the top of Lucius Malfoy's priorities. He knew something, Draco had said so himself, and with Dumbledore gone, who knows what could happen?

The castle had slipped into a somber mood. Dumbledore's absence had caused fear to spread like wildfire in the hearts of students, even the purebloods looked over their shoulders when they walked the corridors alone. Teachers escorted the students to and from classes, from the Great Hall to the common rooms, and they were not allowed to go anywhere unless they were under supervision.

Hagrid, the groundskeeper had been carted off to Azkaban the same night Dumbledore had left, and the whispers grew louder. Word spread about the giant man who cared for monsters, how his love for beasts had gotten out of hand, and out of his grasp. He had been expelled from Hogwarts when he was a student, everyone knew by now, but Dumbledore had allowed him to work for the castle.

Potter and his gang didn't seem to think the man was behind the crimes, and secretly, she agreed. Hagrid was a menace, he was reckless in his passion for dangerous creatures, but he did not seem like a killer. Nor did he seem to be the Heir of Slytherin, now _that_ she found impossible to believe. Though what pulled on her thoughts the most was that they never found the creature, they went on, with classes and lectures, but there were three students in the hospital wing still petrified. _'What kind of monster petrifies things?'_ she thought to herself.

In between studying for exams, she read book upon book of creatures and monsters and magical beings, everything Madam Pince had on the subject, and when the librarian wasn't looking, she snuck in to the restricted section, reading even more. But the pressure of the exams outweighed her curiosity, and as the exams neared, she spent less and less time reading about dragons and hippogriffs, drowning herself in Charms and Transfugration.

Three days before their exams, McGonagall had announced that the antidote for the prettifications had been procured and after administering the treatment to the victims later that night, those petrified would be able to rejoin the rest of the school. The students had erupted into cheers, although Slytherin table remained mostly quiet.

After classes that day, she made off for the library, hoping to get some research done before studying. With the petrified students on her mind, she crept behind bookshelves, hiding when Madam Pince would turn her way, and snuck into the restricted section once again. She scoured the Magical Creatures section, skimming through pages and running her fingers across the spines of the old books, until she came across a large tome. She eyed it curiously, wondering why she had never seen it before, and pulled it out.

The leather was worn and peeling in some places, she could just barely make out the words on the front; _The Grotesque and Gruesome: Creatures of the Wizarding World._ On instinct, she ran through the index, her heart skipping a beat when she found the word _petrification._

She flipped to the page indicated, and stifled a gasp.

 _"Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it."_

Her heart began to race as fast as her thoughts. This would explain the dead roosters and the fleeing spiders. But why had the people been petrified, not killed? She turned the page over.

 _"Victims of the Basilisk who have only seen it's reflection through a mirror, and not directly under its gaze, shall suffer petrification."_

She dropped the book with a loud thud and raced out of the library, trying to find the three boys stupid enough to actually do something about this.

" _POTTER!"_ screamed Hermione when she saw the boy and his friends in front of the Great Hall.

"What do _you_ want?" Weasley said venomously.

"I wasn't talking to you." she snapped, with a glare to the boy.

"What is it?" asked Potter, sizing her up.

"I found out what it is." she said, breathless. "The monster. I figured it out."

" _You_ figured it out?" Weasley said suspiciously.

"Ron, be quiet for a moment." Neville said. "What do you mean, Hermione?"

She handed the torn page from the book she had read earlier to Potter.

"It's a giant serpent." he said, astounded. "That's why I can hear it."

"If it's a giant snake, how is it going around the castle unnoticed, then?" asked Weasley skeptically.

"Use your brain, Weasel." she snapped. " _The pipes._ It's using the pipes."

Suddenly, the corridor was filled with McGonagall's voice echoing through the castle;

 _"All students to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staffroom. Immediately, please."_

"I should go." she said quickly, slinging her bag over her shoulders, and turning around quickly.

"Oi! Dagworth!" Potter called. "What do you want us to do about this?!"

She turned and looked at him square in the eyes, and smirked. "What you always do, Potter. Save the day."

"You're not coming with us?" he asked.

She shook her head and smiled. "I'm no hero, Potter."

She braced herself for the feast the next day. The victims of petrification were milling about as if nothing was amiss, and Ginny Weasley, who had been abducted the night before, was now safely in the infirmary. The Great Hall was consumed in a loud rumble of talk about Harry Potter saving the day once again, although no one knew what actually did happen. Dumbledore was back at the teacher's table, smiling with that twinkle in his eye.

She was ready, even, for their loss of the House Cup, once again, to Gryffindor. The three boys had earned a hundred points each and an award for Services to the School. The rest of her Slytherin friends, though, were in an uproar, groaning about Potter and spitting insults as fast as they could muster.

She had _not_ been prepared for Professor McGonagall announcing that exams had been cancelled. Her voice rising above the cheering of the rest of the school; "But I already revised for _everything!"_ she whined, earning a smack on the arm from Daphne. Dumbledore had also announced that professor Lockhart would not be coming back the following school year, since he would be recuperating fro a _mishap_ that had resulted in a sudden loss of memory. To this, the Slytherin table cheered the loudest.

The final term flew by faster than an eagle owl, though their Defense classes had been canceled for the rest of the term. Draco's father had been removed from the Board of Governors of the school, which put a momentary stop to his pompous prancing around Hogwarts, and his taunting of Potter.

When the Hogwarts Express rolled into King's Cross station, she was bursting at the seams with excitement. After making her friends promise to visit her over the summer, and various "Goodbye's." and "See you soon's.", she pried herself from her friends to look for her mother and father, who she found waiting for her patiently, with smiles on their faces.

"Maman! Papa!" she called, once again falling into their embrace. "I missed you." she said, as they stood hand in hand, holding on to the broken spectacles in her father's hands, feeling the familiar pull of the Portkey in her belly.


	14. Chapter 14: Troisième Année

Hermione Dagworth-Granger was not your ordinary pureblood witch. For one thing, she treated her house elf with respect. For another, she held herself from judging people based on their blood. And she also happened to be kind, loving, caring and generous. But Hermione was also a Slytherin, and she was cunning, deceitful, ambitious, and followed the Slytherin trait of self-preservation like it was the law. She could be unforgiving and haughty, just like any pureblood witch, and moments like these brought out the worst in her.

"Blaise Zabini!" she yelled, her voice echoing throughout the large manor.

The boy in question was in a fit of laughter at the end of the hallway, next to his accomplices, Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott. She tore down the enormous poster of the dark skinned boy's face off the wall of her bedroom vehemently, relishing in the loud "Rip!" that resulted. When she was satisfied with her handy work, and the boy's face had been ripped to shreds, she stomped down the hallway angrily.

She had only just reached the group of boys when a soft "Ehem." sounded from behind her. Hermione grimaced and turned around, pasting an innocent smile on her face.

"Hello, Maman." she said sweetly.

"Good morning, darling." her mother replied, eyes flashing. The boys took their cue to leave and snuck away silently, leaving Hermione and her mother alone.

"I was wondering," said her mother. "why such a beautiful young lady would wake the whole house with very unladylike shrieking."

"I was not shrieking." she huffed. Her mother's cold grey eyes flashed once more, and she stood straight, bowing her head just a little. "I am sorry, Maman. My anger got the best of me. Blaise stuck a poster of his face on my wall and I was not pleased."

Her mother looked at her with a condescending smile. Over the summer, Lyra Black's daughter had grown a few inches taller, making it harder for her to look down on her daughter when lecturing her.

"What have I told you about how _proper_ ladies serve justice?" her mother asked with a perfect brow raised.

"We do it gracefully, demurely, and vehemently." recited Hermione, as if in class.

"Correct, dear one." Lyra said in approval. "Now will you continue your shrieking?"

"No, Maman. I will be the perfect pureblood daughter and do it gracefully, demurely, and vehemently." she said. "Maybe with a bit more vehemence."

Her mother nodded, and sashayed away. Hermione went down the hall to the the girls' room, where Daphne and Pansy were staying. She found the two of them flipping through copies of Witch Weekly.

"I need your help." she said.

The two girls perked up at her voice. "We heard you scream." said Daphne.

"What do you want us to do?" asked Pansy. Each girl had a growing grin on her face as a plan began to formulate.

That afternoon, they strolled around the city, and lounged by the Seine. Hermione laughed with Pansy and Daphne about something every once in a while, and watched as Daphne flirted with French wizards who happened to pass. This part of the Seine flowed right next to Le Carre Square, and the water was charmed to be warm all throughout the year. The muggles had made the beautiful river sick with pollution, but this part of the river was treated with respect, and a good dose of cleansing magic. On hot days, not unlike the one now, witches and wizards would come to the river to cool off or laze in the grass.

Hermione ignored the sidelong glances the boys were giving her. She knew they expected retaliation, but she had a plan. She excused herself to go buy an ice cream from Marcel's. The square was filled with young witches and wizards today, groups of teens smiled and talked around her, they most likely went to Beauxbaton's. She waved hello to a few people she knew who she was friends with when she was a child. Marcel's was packed as usual, and she waited a good ten minutes before she could get her ice cream cone.

When she returned to her friends, she found that the boys were missing, only Pansy and Daphne remained. Blaise, Draco, and Theo could be seen splashing about in the river, wrestling one another underwater.

"Is it time?" she asked.

Both girls nodded with Cheshire cat smiles on their faces.

"You know the spell, right?" she asked, receiving two identical nods. "And the sticking charm that goes with it?" they nodded again.

"On three… _one … two … three!"_ Three jets of light burst from their wands, hitting their targets. The boys wouldn't be able to feel anything, but after a few seconds …

"What the hell?!" yelled Draco in alarm. The two other boys were in a similar state, spewing expletives as they inspected their arms and each other. The girls, who had been watching from where they were, had been consumed by a fit of laughter. Hermione was clutching at her stomach as tears fell from her eyes.

In the water stood three unamused looking boys. Three very _pink_ unamused looking boys.

Their group walked back to the Manor, half of them still giggling, and the other half trying to hide as much skin as possible. They had tried to scrub the color off for half an hour, then when that hadn't worked, yelled _"Finite Incantatem."_ for a good half hour more.

People were looking at them oddly as they walked, and what a sight it was. Hermione was thankful for the fact that Le Carre Square was a hub for magic, and the wards and charms surrounding the place interfered with the Trace, allowing them to perform simple magic without getting noticed by the Ministry.

Her mother met them at the door, and had to stifle a chuckle. The boys immediately made for their rooms, desperate to remove whatever Charm the girls had cast on them.

"I approve." her mother said, with bright eyes, staring after the magenta colored boys as they ran up the marble staircase.

"Lyra." came a booming voice from down the hall.

Hermione smiled as her grandfather stepped out of his study. He smiled back wanly, motioning for his daughter to approach him. "We need to talk, daughter." he said.

She wondered what that was about, trying to catch a glimpse as her mother's robes disappeared behind the large wooden door. Her grandfather wasn't usually so _unnerved_. The three girls exchanged looks with one another before making their own way up the stairs.

Her grandfather had asked them all to remain at the table after dinner. He still had a haunted look that seemed foreign on his usually smiling face. Both her parents looked somber, and Hermione was getting antsy the more they withheld whatever they wanted to say. The six children waited patiently for the adults to begin talking.

"Tomorrow we will all be going to Diagon Alley." Lyra Black said, finally breaking the silence.

"All of us?" asked Hermione. "Even grand-papa?"

Her mother nodded. "Yes." she said. "You will need to be supervised while you are there."

"But why?" Draco asked. "We're in our third year." He said as if being thirteen was peak maturity in the Wizarding World.

"It is for your safety." her father said, his tone told them he wasn't taking no for an answer. "No one is to separate from the group, is that clear?"

The children nodded, mildly intimidated by the man. "But Papa, why?" asked Hermione.

Her grandfather sighed, it was one that only a man his age would be able to make. A sigh loaded with years of regret and worry. "Sirius Black escaped Azkaban late last night."

A chill settled on the entire dinner table as soon as the words were said.

 _'Uncle Sirius?'_ she thought to herself. _'But no one escaped Azkaban.'_

"How is that possible?" Draco asked.

"Neither I or the Ministry knows. But with …" Alphard Black breathed out shakily. "a _murderer_ on the loose, we have to be cautious."

Hermione and her friends nodded, and were dismissed soon after. Her grandfather went back to his study, and she followed. She stood by the door, observing the man sitting at his desk . It seemed as though he had aged in just a few hours, the news taking its toll on him heavily. The lines on his face were etched in worry, and he had a troubled look in his grey eyes.

She knew that Sirius was a sore topic in their family. He had been blasted off the family tree when he was younger, and after the Potters were killed, went on rampage and killed thirteen muggles along with Peter Pettigrew. No one knew that his true allegiance was with the Dark Lord. That had made _both_ the sons of Orion followers of You-Know-Who.

"Grand-pere?" she said timidly from the door way. The old man looked up at her with a weary smile.

"Yes, my darling, how may I help you?" he asked.

"Do you want to talk?" she asked, approaching the man, taking a seat in front of him.

"I'm afraid I'm not in the right state for cheery conversations, child." he said sadly.

"Will you tell me another story about him, grand-papa?" she pleaded.

The old man smiled. "I think it's time you knew more about your Uncle than his shenanigans at school." Hermione sat up straight, eager.

"You know he was a rebel, of course." he said, sounding nostalgic. "Nothing like his brother. Regulus was Walburga's son, through and through. He stood up for himself, stupidly, but I guess he thought he was being brave, Gryffindor and all. He was punished for it, for being a lion, for not following pureblood beliefs. He was punished for almost everything."

Alphard sighed. "But he was a good man. He was kind, and he loved his friends and trusted them only like only a lion would. You remind me of him, you know, you're both so strong and so brave, and you think for yourselves."

Hermione smiled. "I'm no a Gryffindor, grand-papa."

"No, you're not." he smiled.

"Do you think he did it?" she asked. "Do you think he really killed all those people?"

The old man frowned, "No." he said flatly. "My nephew was rash, and reckless ,and unstable when he was angry but he was _not_ a murderer. He hated Lord Voldemort, hated everything that had to do with the Dark Arts. I didn't believe them when they told me he was a spy, I still don't."

"He's coming to Hogwarts, isn't he?" asked Hermione.

Alphard nodded somberly. "They say he's going after the Potter boy."

"I'll keep my eye out for him." she said thoughtfully.

"Thank you. But do not put yourself in harm's way, my dear." the man said sternly. "If anything happened to you —"

"I'm too Slytherin to have anything happen to me, grand-papa."

He let out a soft chuckle. "That you are, child, that you are." he said. "Off you go then, I'm sure your friends are wondering where you disappeared to."

"Good night, grand-papa." she said, standing up to give him a hug.

"Pair up, children. Two of you will be going with each of us today." he father said.

Pansy latched on to Daphne immediately, and Blaise took a step nearer to Theo, and Hermione stood beside Draco. Pansy and Daphne took the first Portkey with her mother, then the two boys with her father, leaving her and Draco with her grandfather.

"Right." he grandfather said as they appeared in Diagon Alley. "Books first then? You already have your new robes, I presume?" Both she and Draco nodded, they had had their robes owled to them a week before.

They made their way to Flourish and Blotts, where they were met by a harassed looking manager. "Hogwarts?" he asked, eyeing the two children.

"Two sets of the third year books, if you please." Alphard said to the man, dropping a pouch of Galleons on the counter.

The manager nodded, and scampered off with a look of dread on his face. The cause of his distress was presented to them a moment later, when he came back with two pairs of _Monster Books,_ in his gloved hands. The book struggled against its restrains, it had been chained closed, and a padlock kept it from biting the man. Her grandfather guffawed loudly.

"Who would even think of adding that to the list of books for a _third year_?" he wondered aloud. "Give them here, then."

The man was glad to be rid of the things, and left to get them the rest of their books.

"Here you go, children." Her grandfather said, handing them the books. Hermione and Draco looked at them gingerly.

"Grand-pere?" she said. "It's alive."

"Of course, it's alive my dear." the man said, as if this were a normal occurrence. "Just stroke the spine, it'll calm down when you do. Scamander thought it would be funny to turn a book about monsters into an actual monster." Her grandfather looked at them with a twinkle in his eye. He had been a Magizoologist before he retired, and a very good one at that, and had been friends with the famed Newt Scamander.

The two children took the books, following the old man's advice. True enough, the book relaxed in their arms as soon as they did. The man came back with the rest of their books, and they picked up a few quills, ink pots, and rolls of parchment. Alphard cast a charm on their cauldrons full of school things, and they shrunk enough to be put in the pocket of their robes. They picked up their Potions equipment at the apothecary, and Draco got a Broom Servicing Kit from the Quidditch supply store.

As they passed the Magical Menagerie she caught sight of an orange ball of fur through the shop's window.

"Grand-papa." she said, calling the man's attention. "Can we have a look?"

The man smiled and nodded. The shop was loud with various animal sounds, meowing and barking and tweeting, and shrieking. She made a beeline for the cage she had seen from outside. She let the fur ball out of his cage, and it sprang to life, jumping out and onto the head of a certain red headed boy. She and Draco stifled a laugh as the cat began to swipe at Ron Weasley's pet rat.

"CROOKSHANKS, NO!" cried the witch who had been talking to Weasley and Potter. The rat bolted out of his hands and out the shop, and the two boys followed frantically, not even pausing to glare at the two Slytherins.

"I want him." Hermione said adamantly, looking at the large cat with adoring eyes.

"You want _that_?" Draco asked in alarm. The cat had thick and fluffy ginger fur, and its face looked more than a bit squashed, its legs were short and stubby, and looked as if they could barely carry the cat's weight. Hermione ignored him and moved to pet the ball of fur behind the ears.

"You have a good eye, Miss." the witch in charge said. "Crooksie here's half kneazle, he can sniff out an animals a mile away."

"May I have him, grand-papa?" she said, batting her eyelashes at the man.

"Of course you may." the man said, handing the with a handful of Galleons. "Your mother had a familiar when she was your age, I doubt that she would object to you owning one yourself."

Hermione grinned and scooped the cat up in her arms, cooing at him lovingly.

"You couldn't have picked a nicer looking one?" said Draco, nose scrunched at the cat, who growled at the boy.

"He's perfect." she announced with a grin.

"What, in the name of all that's good in the world, is _that_?" a voice said from behind them.

Blaise and Theo approached them, sending curious looks at the cat in her arms, her father followed behind the two boys.

"This," she said proudly, holding up the purring cat. "is Crookshanks."

"Did get hit in the face by the Knight Bus?" Blaise asked with a smirk.

"Oh, shut up." she muttered.

"Have you finished your shopping, then?" he father asked.

"Yes, Papa." she said smiling.

"Right, then. Your mother and the girls are waiting for us at the Leaky. We better get moving, you still have to pack your trunks for tomorrow." They made their way through Diagon Alley, weaving through the crowd.

"I can't believe we have to go back to Hogwarts tomorrow." Blaise groaned.

"I'm rather excited." said Hermione. "I wonder what our new classes will be like."

"Only you, Hermione Dagworth-Granger, would be _excited_ for classes." the boy muttered.

She rolled her eyes and turned to Theo. "You're taking Arithmancy and Runes with me, aren't you?"

"Yeah," he said with a smile. The green eyed boy had to look down at her when he talked, he had grown a full head taller than her over the summer, and always made her feel small. "but I'm not taking Care of Magical Creatures _and_ Divination as well. How do you even plan on doing anything except studying?"

"Oh, come off it." she said. "I'll find a way."

Truth be told, she had already found one. Professor Snape had owled to inform her that her request had been approved by both the Ministry and Albus Dumbledore, though she was strictly forbidden from telling anyone. He had sent a parcel along with the letter, and she had quickly hidden in from her friends and family. The Time-Turner was now safely hidden under a pile of neatly folded underthings in her cabinet drawer.

They found her mother, Pansy, and Daphne patiently waiting outside the Leaky Cauldron. The two girls were wearing matching expressions of annoyance.

"Is something wrong?" Theo asked the girls.

"Potter and Weasley." Pansy muttered.

"What did they do?" Draco asked, ready for a fight.

"Just being gits, as usual." Daphne said. "Doesn't matter."

"Children, hold on to your Portkeys." Hector reminded them. They all scrambled to grab hold of a battered looking book, and disappeared from sight.

"Mimi, you've packed and unpacked my trunk three times, I'm sure you haven't left anything out." said Hermione, who was watching the elf run around the room, levitating things into her trunk.

"Mimi wants to be thorough, Mimi does." the elf said, as a set of green and silver Hogwarts robes flew out from her dresser.

"I've watched you this whole time, you've packed everything I need, stop fussing." she said, flipping a page of her open Arithmancy book.

"Young Miss has been reading this whole time, Young Miss cannot deceive Mimi." the house elf said pointedly at her.

Hermione sighed, knowing that arguing would do nothing. "Mimi, I order you to find something else to do. My trunk's already packed."

The elf glared at her, but followed her instructions nonetheless, locking the witch's trunk before turning to leave.

"Hermione, have you seen my sliver headband?" Daphne asked, popping her head into the room. "I think I left it here a few days ago."

"It's on the vanity, I think." she said offhandedly.

The blonde witch retrieved the missing hairpiece from the table and moved to leave.

"Hold on, Daph, I'm coming with you." Hermione said, following the other girl out of the room.

"Have you finished packing?" Her friend asked, eyeing the trunk.

"Mimi had just left before you came in." she said, nodding.

"Good." the other witch said, locking her arm with Hermione's. "You can help me, then. I _hate_ packing."

Hermione groaned as she was lead into the girls' room, where clothes and books were strewn over the bed and on the floor. Pansy was busy folding a pair of socks.

"Are you aware that your things are supposed to go _into_ the trunk, not explode out of it?" she asked the two girls.

"What? _Really?_ " gasped Daphne. "Oh, Hermione, what would we ever do without you?"

She swatted the blonde on the arm lightly, before picking up a pair of jeans from the floor.

"Girls," Daphne announced loudly. "This is the year I'm getting Terrence Higgs to ask me to Hogsmeade."

Pansy laughed loudly from her bed. "He's a sixth year, Daph, he'd never ask you."

"Adrian Pucey, then." The other girl said thoughtfully. "He's fit, and he's on the Quidditch team, so I can ask Draco to introduce us, and he's only a fifth year."

"Maybe he'll ask _me_." teased Pansy.

"In your dreams, Parkinson." the witch retorted, before receiving a pillow to the face.

"I don't understand how you can eat so much and not look like you just swallowed Hogwarts castle." Pansy muttered, glaring at Draco, who was chewing the head off his Chocolate Frog. He had bought a week's worth of candy from the trolley, and had already consumed two pumpkin pasties, and half a box of Every Flavor Beans. The rest of the occupants of the carriage were watching in amusement.

"Don't let him into Honeydukes on Hogsmeade weekend." said Theo. "He'll probably spend his entire inheritance buying every last piece of candy in the place."

Hermione laughed, making the cat resting on her lap meow angrily at the disturbance. The witch quickly soothed it quiet, running a hand through its soft fur.

"I still can't believe you spent money on that ugly thing." Blaise said, eyeing the cat.

"He's not ugly." she snapped.

"Right, and Hagrid's the same height as Flitwick." he muttered.

Hermione opened her mouth to snap at him when Draco stood abruptly, smoothening his robes. "I'm going to find Crabbe and Goyle." he said, and left the room.

"That was odd." Daphne said, confused.

"Well, I don't know about you people, but I'm going to take a kip." Blaise said, stretching his legs over the spot Draco had just left, resting his head on Pansy's lap.

"I'm sorry,"Pansy said, glaring at the boy. "I don't remember saying you could do that."

"Come on, Pans, I know you love me." He said, closing his eyes. Pansy ignored him, though she didn't shove him away either.

"Hermione, I swear on Merlin's grave, if you glance one more time at your book bag I'm going to slap you." Pansy growled. "We haven't even started class yet and you're already studying."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's interesting." she said. "Besides, advanced reading doesn't hurt anyone. Theo does it." The boy next to her flush lightly.

"He doesn't have a bloody book in his hands every moment of the day." her friend pointed out.

Hermione sniffed, raising her chin. "I like knowing things."

"You know too much for your own good." Pansy muttered.

"Oh, leave her alone, Pans." said Daphne, saving her friend. "Slytherin House has the top student in our year, and Hermione couldn't do that without reading as much as she does."

Hermione smiled at the girl in thanks. Their attention turned to the door, which had opened once again, revealing a frustrated looking Draco.

"Couldn't find Greg and Vince?" Hermione asked.

"No, I found them." he said, shoving Blaise's feet off his seat, forcing the other boy to sit up. "We ran into Potter but couldn't do anything because a professor was there."

"A professor?" Theo asked, intrigued.

"Yeah, our new Defense teacher, I reckon. Didn't look like much. He was asleep, so I couldn't get a good look at him, though."

"I hope he isn't as bad as Lockhart." Hermione mused. "Or Quirrell, for that matter. We've had such rotten luck with our Defense of the Dark Arts professors."

Blaise smirked. "Yeah, Lockhart was a —" They never found out what Lockhart was, because the train had slowed to a screeching halt, and the rain outside howled eerily.

"What's going on?" asked Theo. "Are we at Hogwarts already?"

Hermione checked the time on Blaise's watch. "No, we can't be." she said. "We have a good hour before we even get there."

Without warning, the lamps went out, and they were engulfed in complete darkness.

"Ouch!" Hermione yelped, as someone elbowed her in the side.

"Merlin, Hermione, was that you?" Theo asked, sounding horrified. "I'm so sorry."

Something hissed at her feet. "Crookshanks!" she cried, and felt around, scooping up the ball of fur in her arms protectively. Someone in the carriage muttered _"Lumos."_ and a soft light glowed at the tip of Draco's wand.

"What the hell is happening?" yelled Blaise.

The door to the carriage slid open, and there, standing in the doorway, illuminated by the light of Draco's spell, was a cloaked figure that towered above them. Hermione was suddenly filled with a feeling of dread, as if all the happiness had been sucked out of her lungs, and thrown away. She shivered, a freezing cold had overcome them, feeling as if they were being frozen alive.

Someone had shouted something from somewhere in the train, and a burst of silvery light swept through them, blinding them momentarily, and suddenly, the creature was gone.

"Was that — was that a —" Pansy stuttered.

"A dementor." Hermione said blankly, staring at the spot where the thing had been. Theo reached to slide the door closed.

A silence fell on the group of friends, each individual deep in thought.

"Why are they here?" asked Blaise.

"Isn't it obvious?" said Hermione, her piercing amber eyes staring at the boy. "They're looking for Sirius Black.


	15. Chapter 15: Buckbeak

"You _fainted_ , Potter?" drawled Draco as soon as the other boy stepped off the his carriage. "Is Longbottom telling the truth? You actually _fainted?"_

Hermione rolled her eyes as she watched her friend elbow past other students to get to his nemesis.

"Shove off, Malfoy." said Ron testily. Hermione clenched her jaw, biting back the snide remark that rested on the tip of her tongue.

"Did you faint as well, Weasley?" Draco said loudly. "Did the scary old dementor frighten you too?"

"Is there a problem here?" said a mild voice. The students stilled as the man approached. He looked tired and weary, though he appeared quite young, and his clothes were worn and shabby, looking a size too big for him.

Draco glared at the man insolently, and face him a brittle smile, saying, "Oh, no — _Professor,_ " then he smirked at his Crabbe and Goyle and led them into the castle. Hermione and Daphne exchanged an exasperated look, and followed them after a moment.

"Miss Dagworth-Granger, a word?" a voice called as soon as they entered the Great Hall. She turned to see Professor Snape waiting for her with an impatient look on his face. She followed quickly, as he led her to his office. He motioned for Hermione to sit down and he settled himself behind his desk.

"I trust that you received my owl?" he drawled. Hermione nodded, pulling out the Time Turner from under her robes.

"Good." her professor said. "You have been trusted with a powerful bit of magic, Miss Dagworth-Granger. It is your responsibility to put it to use for your classes and for your classes _only_. Time is a fickle thing, I believe you are intelligent enough not to mess around with it." He was looking at her sharply, black, beady eyes glaring at her.

"Yes, Professor." She said.

"Very well, then." He said, rising from his seat. "The Sorting would have ended by now." He then led her down the marble staircase to the Great Hall.

Hermione made her way to the Slytherin table, taking note of the new faces of the first year snakes. She sat down on either side of Daphne and Blaise, who had saved her a seat.

"What did Snape want?' whispered Daphne.

"He just wanted to talk to me about my course schedule." she muttered.

"See?" Blaise said from her left. "Even Snape thinks you've got too much on your plate."

She elbowed him in the side. "For your information, he thinks I'll be able to cope _brilliantly_." Well, Snape hadn't said those _exact_ words, but they didn't know that

At the teachers' table, the headmaster had stood up to speak, his eyes twinkled as he gazed upon the room. "Welcome!" said Dumbledore. "As you will all be aware after the search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business." They listened intently as the man began to explain that no one was to leave the school without permission — at which Blaise snorted. Because dementors could see through any disguise, even Invisibility Cloaks.

At the, she glanced at Potter, who was squirming in his seat. The headmaster proceeded to warn them not to give the dementors a reason to harm them.

"On a happier note," he continued, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year.

"First of all, Professor Remus Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense of the Dark Arts teacher."

There was a smattering of applause as the tired looking man stood from his seat. Hermione spared a glance to her other professors, and saw that Professor Snape was glaring at the new professor from the other end of the staff table. It was no secret that their Potions professor wanted the Defense post, but the look he was sending Professor Lupin was one of pure loathing, which Hermione noted with a bit of surprise.

"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continued as Professor Lupin sat back down, "Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, has retired. However, I am pleased to tell you that the post will be filled by our very own Rubeus Hagrid."

The Slytherins broke into whispers as the large man stood to be recognized, their Gryffindor counterparts had begun to clap loudly for the man.

"Hagrid?" Hermione whispered furiously. "A professor?"

"What's Dumbledore on?" Theo said incredulously, glaring at the headmaster.

"Should've guessed." muttered Draco. "Only that oaf would have assigned us a biting book."

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," said Dumbledore, "Let the feast begin!" With a wave of his hands, their golden plates and goblets filled suddenly with food and drink, and the students helped themselves to the feast.

After dinner, they were led once again by Terrence Higgs, who had retained his post as a prefect, to the Slytherin Dungeons. They stood in front of the snake charmer, waiting for the sixth year to tell them the password.

"Password's _'Katharós'_!" he shouted, the snake charmer vanished, and the wall folded in on itself, revealing the familiar passage. They walked through it, relishing the familiar warmth of their common room, and the silver and green furniture. Hermione linked her arms with Daphne and Pansy's, and they walked, laughing, to their dormitory.

They were howling in laughter as Draco swooned, falling into Blaise's arms. Hermione smirked when she saw Potter enter the Great Hall at that exact moment, and watched him tense at the sight. Longbottom whispered something to the dark haired boy, and they continued walking to the Gryffindor table.

"Hey, Potter!" shrieked Pansy. "Potter, the demeanors are coming, Potter!" They broke out in a fresh round of laughter, with Draco guffawing loudly.

Potter kept his eyes on his food, ignoring them.

"Hey," someone said from behind her. She turned to face a smiling Terrence Higgs. "Hermione, right?"

She nodded absently, surprised that he even knew her name.

"Here's your course schedule." he said, handing the parchment to her with a sheepish grin.

"Thank you." she said with a smile.

"Anytime." Terrence said with a nod before walking back to doing the rest of the sixth years.

She looked her schedule over with a calculating smile, and set it aside after a moment. When she looked up, Pansy, Daphne and Theo were staring at her, the girls with looks of disbelief, and Theo with an odd expression on his face that vanished when he realized she was looking at him.

Daphne smacked her on the arm. "Why didn't you say you knew _Terrence Higgs_?" she hissed.

"I don't?" she said, confused. "He just gave me my time table? And stop acting like he's some kind of unreachable celebrity, he's just a boy."

"You hear that Pans?" Daphne said sarcastically. "' _He's just a boy_ ' she says. Hermione, he knew your name?"

"He just gave me my time table." she repeated blankly.

"He could've given the rest of us ours too, but he didn't." Pansy pointed out.

"Oh, calm down, I'm not stealing him from you." She said, rolling her eyes. "He's all yours."

The two girls were still giving her incredulous stares when breakfast ended.

She walked with Theo from Arithmancy in silence. The class had been everything she had expected and more. Professor Vector was a brilliant teacher, and unlike a few of her passed teachers, knew exactly what she was doing. The two friends rounded a corner and she caught sight of the girl's loo.

"Hey, Theo." she said, stopping. "I have to go to the loo. Don't bother waiting, alright?"

She waited for the boy to nod before ducking into the bathroom. Hermione checked all the stalls, making sure they were empty before pulling out the time turner out of her robes and turning it over once.

The witch walked out quickly, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, weaving her way through the castle, trying to make it on time for Ancient Runes.

"What a load of rubbish." muttered Hermione as they walked to the Great Hall for lunch.

"Didn't like her fortune about you?" Blaise snickered. "One day, girl, you will fail yourself!" his voice took on the raspy whispered that vaguely sounded like Trelawney, their Divination teacher.

"That woman doesn't know what she's talking about." she sniffed.

"She can't be any worse than who we have next." grumbled Draco from behind the. Greg and Vince were once again at his sides, looking like bodyguards. "That great oaf will probably get us killed as soon as we step into class."

"If I'd known he was teaching, I wouldn't have taken the class, either." Daphne said, as they sat down for lunch.

The one good thing about Care of Magical Creatures was that the class was outside. The rain had cleared and the sky was a pale blue as they made their way down the lawns of the castle to Hagrid's hut by the Forbidden Forest.

The giant man was already waiting for them, and wasted no time in leading the class to the edge of the trees. Hermione wavered for a moment, thinking that the man was bringing them into the forest, but they had found themselves outside a paddock.

"Now, I want you to open your books —" he began to say.

"How?" said Pansy coldly.

"Eh?" said Hagrid.

"How do we open our books?"Her friend repeated. She took out his copy of _The Monster Book of Monsters_ , which had been bounded shut with a silk scarf. Hermione wondered how the piece of cloth was holding the book closed. She shared a look with Draco, both of them realizing that they hadn't told their friends how to tame the books.

"Yeh've got ter _stroke_ 'em" said Hagrid, as though this should have been common knowledge. "Look —"

He took Neville's copy, and undid the ropes around it, the book snapped at the man's hands but Hagrid ran his fingers down its spine, the book shivered and fell open in his hands.

"Oh, how silly we've all been." Pansy sneered. "Why didn't we think about that?"

"I — I though they were funny." Hagrid said uncertainly.

" _Hilarious_." said Pansy. "We were all laughing when it tried to bite our fingers off."

"Shut up, Parkinson." said Potter quietly. Pansy turned to the boy, eyes flashing.

"Righ' then," said Hagrid, a tad less enthusiastic as before. "I'll go get the creatures."

"Merlin, this place is going to the dogs," Draco said loudly. "That oaf teaching classes, my father almost lost it when I told him —"

"Shut up, Malfoy." Potter repeated.

"Careful, Potter, there's a demented behind you —"

"Oooooh!" squealed a Gryffindor girl. ' _Brown.'_ Hermione thought, remembering her from the Gala.

Hagrid was leading a dozen odd creatures towards the paddock. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the from legs, wings, and head of what looked like giant eagles. Their beaks were large and sharp, and their talons on their front legs were at least half a foot long, and deadly sharp. Each creature had thick leather collars around their necks attached to long chains that Hagrid held in his hands.

Everyone drew back as the creatures approached, watching cautiously as Hagrid ties the chains to a fence.

"Hippogriffs!" he roared in excitement. "Beau'iful, aren' they?"

Hermione stared at the beasts in trepidation, wondering what Hagrid was talking about.

"So," said Hagrid, beaming at them. "if yeh want ter come closer —"

The class remained where they were except for Potter, Weasley, and Longbottom, who approached the fence cautiously.

"Yeh gotta know that hippogriffs are proud creatures," said Hagrid. "Easily offended, they are. So don't ever insult one, cause it might be the last thing yeh do. Always wait for them to make the firs' move. Walk toward him, bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed to touch him.

"Righ' — who wants to go first?"

The class backed farther away in answer.

"I'll do it." said Potter, looking like he had just swallowed a toad.

Potter approached the hippogriff that Hagrid had unchained. "Easy, now, Harry." said Hagrid quietly.

Potter gave a cautious bow, and the hippogriff, and to his surprise, the creature suddenly bent its front knees and sank into a bow. The boy approached the beast, spurred on by Hagrid's excited prodding, and patted its beak several times. The class broke into applause, even Hermione had to admit that it was impressive.

"Righ' then, I reckon he might let yeh ride him!" said Hagrid.

Potter looked as if he was going to be sick, but he straightened and steeled himself for the task at hand. He put his foot on the hippogriff's wing and hoisted himself up. Without warning, the creature's wings flapped open and like a strike of lightning, it, and its passenger, were gone.

The class craned their necks, trying to see where the two had gone, following them throughout their flight. Almost as quick as they had departed, they were landing, the creature's wings causing the leaves to rustle as its feet were back on solid ground. Potter pushed himself off the beast as soon as he could, looking shaken.

Emboldened by Potter's success, the rest of the class climbed into the paddock, cautiously approaching the hippogriff. Hermione hung back in trepidation, worried that one of the creatures might snatch her up and take her flying. She watched as her friends began bowing to the animals excitedly.

"This is very easy," Draco drawled loudly, drawing her attention. He, Crabbe, and Goyle had taken over the hippogriff that Potter had ridden. "I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it… I bet you're not that dangerous at all, are you?" he said to the hippogriff.

"Draco…" she tried to warn, but the boy was too far away to hear her.

"Are you, you great ugly brute?" he said.

It happened before she could even scream. Razor sharp talons flashed under the sun, and Draco let out a terrified yell, the next moment, Hagrid was wrestling Buckbeak in the grass.

Hermione rushed to her friend, who had fallen to the ground.

"I'm dying!" he yelled. "I'm dying, look at me!"

She pried his hand away from his arm, where it had been stopping the blood flow. His robes were soaked in the red liquid, but the gash was not deep enough to have caused anything life altering. She breathed out a sigh of relief.

"It's killed me!" Draco yelled again. Hagrid lifted the boy easily, and carried the boy into the castle.

"They should fire him right away!" cried Pansy, who was in tears.

"It was Malfoy's fault!" A Gryffindor boy snapped.

She and her friends glared at him, though she knew that he was right.

"They should have never allowed him to bring in creatures that have the capacity to _kill_ us, anyway." she said fiercely. "Whether Draco antagonized it or not, the beast is a threat."

"I'm going to see if he's okay!" said Pansy, who ran up the marble staircase hurriedly.

She glared at the Gryffindors, who had already started to leave for their common rooms, and turned in a flurry of robes.

"Honestly, I don't know what possessed Dumbledore to hire that oaf in the first place." She huffed, walking alongside her friends, who were all busy muttering about Hagrid. "He's gonna kill us by the end of the year!"

"I hope they fire him." said Daphne, who looked shaken.

"When Draco's father hears of this, Hagrid'll be gone by sunrise." said Blaise happily.


	16. Chapter 16 : Pur Peur

The next time they saw Draco was late one Thursday morning. His arm was bandaged up and bound in a sling and swaggered into the Potions class they shared with the Gryffindors with a smirk plastered on his face. Hermione and Theo shared a glance, they had both partnered up again, since the year prior had ended with them at the top of the class. They had just been talking about Draco when he walked in.

"How is it Draco?" they heard Pansy simper. "Does it hurt terribly?"

"Yeah," said Draco, grimacing, with a sly wink at Crabbe and Goyle, who were following behind him. Hermione shook her head at him, focusing on the man who had just entered the room in a swish of robes.

"Settle down." Professor Snape said idly.

The class drew their attention back to the task at hand; Snape had assigned them a new potion for the week, a Shrinking Solution. Hermione and Theo set to work, both lighting the flames of their respective cauldrons. From behind them, a drawling voice spoke through the silence.

"Sir," Draco called, "I'll need help cutting my roots, my arm —"

"Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots for him." said Snape in a bored voice.

They heard the Weasel mutter something under his breath before moving to chop up Draco's daisy roots in uneven slices.

"Professor," called Draco again, "Weasley's mutilating my roots sir."

Hermione and Theo tried to hide their snickers at their friend's antics.

"Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley." said Snape.

The boys turned red in indignation, opening his mouth to complain, but was silenced with a look from the Professor. The redheaded boy shoved his own painstakingly cut roots across the table to Draco, grumbling.

Hermione channeled all her focus into the potion, skinning her shrivel fig to perfection before adding it to the brew. She only noticed Neville because his potion had begun to turn a bright shade of orange instead of acid green. She tried to whisper to the boy how to undo the damage, but she was too late, Snape had already pounced on the trembling boy, berating him for his failure.

"Sir," she said, stealing the professor's attention, "if I may, I could try to remedy the situation."

Snape looked at her with beady black eyed, and nodded once, almost imperceptibly.

"Be grateful that Miss Dagworth-Granger is willing enough to help you through your dismal attempt. Pray that she is more patient than I with your failure. Perhaps at the end of the lesson, we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens." The professor had a sneer etched into his face as he looked down at the body and walked away.

Hermione walked towards her friend, who was shaking at the encounter.

"Are you alright?" she asked sincerely.

"Fine," Neville said, with a nervous laugh. "can you help me?"

She nodded, turning to look at the boy's potion. "You have to dilute the potion, to remove the effect of the extra rat spleen you added, then add a bit more daisy root, to soak up the leech juice you put in."

The boy nodded gratefully and set to work. She looked over his shoulder, making sure that he wouldn't do anything else to his potion in the process.

" reckon Sirus Black's been sighted." someone said from behind them. She stiffened, craning her neck to try and hear as much of the conversation as she could.

"Where?" it was Potter's voice, asking the boy who had spoken — Finnegan, she thought.

"Not too far from here." said the other boy, "It was a Muggle who saw him. Course, she didn't really understand. They think he's an ordinary criminal, don't they? When the Ministry of Magic showed up, though, he was gone."

"What, Malfoy?" snapped Weasley. "Need something else skinned?"

Hermione turned to look at them, Draco was smiling malevolently at the two boys.

"Thinking of catching black single-handedly, Potter?" he asked, leaning against the table.

"Yeah, that's right." Potter said stubbornly.

Draco's smile deepened in malice. "Of course, if it was me, I'd have done something before now. I wouldn't be in school like a good boy. I'd be out there looking for him."

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" asked the Weasel.

"Don't you _know,_ Potter?" Draco asked, eyed narrowed.

"Know what?" asked the boy.

Draco gave out a loud, sneering laugh.

"If it was me, I'd want revenge, you know." Draco continued. "I'd hunt him down myself."

" _What are you talking about?_ " hissed Potter.

Before her friend could say anything else, she grabbed him by the arm, dragging him away, as Snape was giving final instructions.

"Keep your mouth shut, Draco." she snapped angrily.

"Oh, come on." her friend whined. "I was only messing with them."

"We do not talk about family like that." she said, eyes flashing.

"He isn't family." said Draco, rolling his eyes. "He was blasted off the tree years ago, he disgraced our name, and he's a murderer."

Hermione tightened her grip on his arm. "Blood is blood, Draco Malfoy." she said, before he yanked his arm back.

"That hurts!" he yelped.

"It should be healed by now." she said, rolling her eyes, before walking away. "Don't be such a wuss."

She could practically feel his grey eyes boring holes through the back of her head as she joined Theo again, finishing her potion.

She had only just arranged her quills and parchment when Professor lupin entered the room, shabby as ever, but with a brilliant smile on his face instead of the weary expression he had on the first time she had seen him.

"Good afternoon," he said. "Put all your books back in your bags, please. Today will be a practical lesson, so you'll only be needing your wands."

Hermione exchanged a curious look with Daphne, who was stowing away her things. They had never had a practical lesson in Defense of the Dark Arts before, well, not one that mattered.

"Right," he said, surveying his class. "If you'd follow me."

The class shared confused looks with each other before following Professor Lupin out of the classroom, along a deserted corridor and around a corner where they were met by Peeves the Poltergeist.

"Loony, loopy Lupin," Peeves sang. "Loony loopy Lupin, loony —"

Professor Lupin just smiled at the poltergeist in amusement. "I'd take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves." he said pleasantly. "Mr. Filch wont be able to get in to his brooms."

The poltergeist merely cackled at the smiling professor, and blew out a wet raspberry at the man. Professor Lupin sighed in resignation. "Watch closely, this may be useful to you in the future." he said to his class, before raising his wand, saying " _Waddiwasi!_ "

Hermione watched as the piece of chewing gum flew out of the keyhole and straight into Peeve's left nostril, causing the children to erupt in giggles and Peeves to curse before zooming away in frustration.

"Cool, sir!" said Dean Thomas, in amazement. Hermione rolled her eyes, trust a Gryffindor to be amazed by such a simple bit of magic.

"Thank you, Dean." said the professor, putting his wand away.

The class set off once more, the man in front leading them down a second corridor, stopping outside a staffroom door.

"Inside, please." said Lupin, opening the door, and standing aside for the students.

After passing their rather surly looking head of house, who stood with a sneer on his face, they gathered around around an old wardrobe where the teachers kept their spare robes. As their professor approached, it gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall. Some of her classmates jumped back in alarm.

"Nothing to worry about." said Professor Lupin, "There's a boggart in there."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up in surprise, her friends eyed the wardrobe cautiously, as if any moment the creature would jump out.

"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces. Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboard under sinks. This one was moved in yesterday upon my request, to give me third year students some practice." their professor said, grinning.

"So, I must ask you, what _is_ a Boggart?"

Hermione raised her hand quickly. "It's a shape shifter. It can take any form of whatever it thinks will frighten us the most."

The man in front smiled at her warmly. "Quite. So the Boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. No-one knows what a beggar looks like when he is alone, but when I release him, he will immediately become whatever each of us fears most."

"The charm that repels a Boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, a Boggart's greatest weakness is _laughter_. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing. After me now, please … _riddikulus!_ "

"Riddikulus!" the class chanted excitedly.

"Very good." said Professor Lupin. "Now, Mr Longbottom, if you would please come forward."

The pale faced boy approached the man with a tremble in his step, looking as if he were ready to flee at any given moment.

"Right, Neville," said the professor, "First thing's first: what would you say is your greatest fear?"

Hermione bit back a small grin when Neville's lips moved, but no words escaped his lips. The professor asked the boy to repeat himself, and Neville looked around the room at his friends, a silent plea for help, and then, just loud enough for the rest of the class to hear, he said,

"Professor Snape."

Everyone burst out in laughter, especially the Slytherins, who now had added ammunition for their taunts towards the boy.

Professor Lupin looked at the boy thoughtfully, before saying, "Professor Snape, you say? I believe you live with your grandmother?"

"Y-yes, sir." he choked out.

"I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother wears?"

Neville looked at the older man as if he had just grown antlers, "Well, she has this hat… a tall magenta hat with a vulture on top, and a long dress, usually green, and sometimes a fox-fur scarf, she always has a big red handbag with her too."

Luipin looked positively mischievous as he leant down to whisper in the boy's ear, causing the third year to giggle uncontrollably. The rest of the class was on their toes, trying to make out what had been said between the two.

"Alright Neville, we're going to back away," said Professor Lupin. "I'll call the next person forward,"

Neville was left alone beside the wardrobe looking frightened and pale. He pushed up the sleeves of his shirt, and brandished his wand, which was shaking in his hands.

"On three, Neville," said Professor Lupin, "One - two - three - now!"

A jet of sparks rushed from the professor's wand and the wardrobe doors burst open. Their Potions master stepped out, in all his hook-nosed, black-clad glory, steering at Neville as if he were a cockroach.

Neville backed away, but Snape walked towards him in quick strides, reaching inside his robes.

"R-r-ridikulus!" squeaked Neville.

The was a sharp noise and their head of house stumbled, he was now wearing a long lace-trimmed green dress, just like neville had said, and most of his greasy black hair was covered by a grotesque pink hat, with a vulture resting on top.

The class burst into raucous laughter, even the Slytherins couldn't force down a few chuckles at their head of house's expense.

"Parvati! Forward!" Lupin shouted amidst the chaos.

There was another crack, and in front of them stood a bandaged mummy, reaching towards Patil.

"Riddikulus!" cried the girl, and the mummy began unraveling at his bandages.

"Hermione! Now!" Professor Lupin yelled.

She stepped forward, unsure, but ready. There was a crack and for a moment, she could see a swirling black smoke in front of her. The color slipped from her face, and it was as if her blood had turned to ice.

"Riddikulus!" she yelled a little too loud, and the black smoke burst into a wheel of firecrackers.

She slipped away quickly as Lupin called the next student forward, looking around thankful that no one had seemed to register what had been in front of her.

"Miss Dagworth-Granger, a word?" her Defense professor said, before she could follow after her friends. Hermione stilled.

Her friends turned to look at her curiously, but she waved the off with a wane smile. "You go on, I'll be alright."

She stepped back into the room, approaching her professor, who, now that the rest of the class had left, wore a worried expression on his face.

"Hermione, would you care to talk about what happened today?" he said, his brow creasing in worry. "I suspected with Harry, the Boggart would have been a problem, but i never would have thought that you —"

"Professor, with all due respect, Sir. I'm not quite sure what you're talking about." she said, trying to hide the tremble in her voice.

"My dear, you don't have to play coy." the man said, "I was in the war. I know that mark. It isn't one a man forgets so easily."

Hermione felt as if the breath had been sucked out of her lungs.

"Sir, it doesn't mean anything." she tried to say, but the man looked at her sharply.

"Miss Dagworth-Granger, if it didn't mean anything, your Boggart wouldn't have changed into it." he said.

She sighed dejectedly, before looking at the man with wide eyes. "I - I can't tell you." she whispered.

The man smiled kindly at her. "That's alright, Hermione." he said. "I would have preferred if you would talk to me, but i can't force you to do something you don't want to do."

"You haven't given me any reason to trust you." she said, before biting her tongue. That wasn't the way you talked to a professor!

Professor Lupin merely laughed in reply. "You're quite right, Hermione." he said. "Well, if you ever change your mind, I'll be here."

Hermione nodded, and scampered off, relieved at being dismissed.

 ** _AN: I am so sorry for not updating sooner. Classes started three weeks ago and I'm already swamped with papers and tests. Please don't give up on me! I'm trying my absolute hardest, I swear._**


	17. Chapter 17 : Prince Noir

**Chapter 17 : Prince Noir**

 **"** Look at the state of his robes," Draco whispered when she caught up with her friends. "He dresses like our old house elf."

"Who you would still have if you'd treated him well." Hermione said primly, as she fell into step with the boy.

He glared at her and she could see him bite back a snarky remark.

"What did Lupin want with you, Hermione?" Blaise asked, curiously.

"Oh, he just wanted a word about a project." she said offhandedly, hoping he would drop the subject. "He seems nice; the lesson wasn't half bad either."

"He'll be gone by the end of the year." Draco snorted, earning a sharp look from her.

"What?" he asked innocently, "The curse will take him just like it's taken everyone else. There hasn't been a Defense teacher who's stayed longer than a year in ages."

"There's no such thing." Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

"Well, there's only one way to find out if the curse is real." Blaise said diplomatically. "We wait."

Hermione rolled her eyes again, as the boys erupted in a fit of chuckling.

* * *

Hermione grew to like Professor Lupin more and more as the weeks passed, he brought in Grindylows and Red Caps, and Kappas, and he actually taught them things that were worth learning, she loved the class almost as much as Arithmancy, Charms, and Potions.

Her friends had yet to put two and two together, and were still flabbergasted with how she was coping with all her schoolwork. She smiled to herself, gazing at the fire in the Slytherin common room, as she fingered the time turner under her cloak.

"Hermione?" Daphne said, waving her hand in front of the blank-faced girl.

"Oh, hi Daph, didn't see you there." she said, in surprise.

"Something on your mind?" her best friend said with a concerned frown.

"No, not at all. What's up?" she asked, brushing her thoughts away.

"Have you honestly forgotten, Hermione?" Daphne asked, with a small smile.

"Forgotten what?" she asked, perplexed. She was sure that she had done all that there was to do, she had even written extra notes for Transfiguration the night before.

"Silly witch." her friend said, shaking her head in amusement. "It's Hogsmeade Weekend tomorrow!"

Hermione stared at her friend blankly, not sure whether that statement was supposed to have elicited a reaction from her. "Yes, I know." she said, confused. "What about it?"

"We have to plan what to wear!" her friend huffed indignantly.

She forced down a giggle, at the serious look Daphne was giving her. "Daph, it's October, it's cold. I'll probably just wear a jumper and pants."

"You're hopeless, Hermione." Daphne muttered, pulling her friend out of her seat and into their dorm room. "You're a witch, you can wear whatever you want, just cast a Warming charm."

"Why do we have to dress up anyway? It's only Hogsmeade, not the Gala."

"Honestly, Hermione, we're third years, we're old enough to get asked out by fifth years now, and that means Adrian Pucey and Xenon Mcnair."

"That doesn't matter to me, Daph. I've got enough on my plate as it is, I do _not_ have time for a pig-headed pureblood expecting me to trail behind his every word." she said primly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

"What would your mother say if she heard you speaking like that?" Daphne asked, looking scandalized.

"She'd probably take a thousand galleons out of my inheritance." Hermione said with a roll of the eyes, "Honestly, Daph, there's more to being a witch than the Ladies Auxiliary and Sunday brunches."

"Just let me pick out a bloody dress for you, Hermione." Daphne said in exasperation.

"Fine, just this once, though." she grumbled.

* * *

Hermione glared at her friend's reflection in the mirror as the two witches inspected themselves. Her friend was wearing a pleased smirk on her face, glancing approvingly at the deep green silk robes on the brown haired witch.

"Honestly, we're both lucky to be in Slytherin, green is most definitely our color." the blonde said.

"Yes, yes, can we go now?" Hermione said impatiently. "I have a new book to pick up and I'm running out of ink."

Daphne smiled, and looped her arm through Hermione's, "Alright, come along, Princess Dagworth-Granger."

Hermione felt silly as she glanced around the Great Hall while they waited for the carriages to bring them to town. It seemed that only the Slytherins bothered to don proper day robes, the other houses were clad in muggle clothing, with a house scarf here and there. She knew that her mother expected nothing less, so Hermione merely raised her chin, ignoring the raised eyebrows pointed in their direction.

Blaise and Theo accompanied the two girls to the bookstore, since Draco had run off again with Crabbe and Goyle to terrorize a group of Hufflepuffs.

"Hermione, can we please, please, _please_ leave already?" Blaise whined for the umpteenth time, next to a bored looking Daphne.

She shared a look with Theo, who shrugged. "We _have_ been here for around thirty minutes." he pointed out.

"Fine." she huffed. "The Three Broomsticks then?"

* * *

They watched as Blaise sauntered off to a booth packed with third year Ravenclaws, who giggled profusely as the boy walked up to them with a dashing smiled slapped across his lips.

"A galleon says that he gets the blonde. "whispered Theo to the two girls sitting across him."

"The blue eyed one seems a bit more enthusiastic though." Daphne observed."

"Brunette with the freckles." Hermione murmured to her friends.

Sure enough, the girl on the far end of the table stood with a shy smile, with Blaise following out the door, just after sending his friends a mock salute their way.

"Pay up." Hermione said devilishly. "Honestly, you two are losing your edge. She was the only Pureblood at that table."

Theo snorted into his drink, "It's not as if Blaise is picky."

"Toujours pur, Theodore, Toujour pur." she said, just as the door opened again, and in walked a dour faced Draco Malfoy.

"Hey, mate." Theo said, "Where are Crabbe and Goyle?"

"Honeydukes." The blonde grumbled. "Couldn't pull them away from the Ice Mice."

"How's your arm, Draco?" asked Daphne, glancing at the bandaged limb in question.

"Better, but it hurts a little still. My father's already filed a case against that oaf of a groundskeeper and his giant bird, but Dumbledore's sweet on the man, so he says the most we can get away with is having Minister Fudge off the bird." the boy said with contempt.

" _Off him?_ " screeched Hermione, "Don't you mean relocate into the wild?" she said sweetly, hoping he had been joking.

"Of course not. If everything goes as planned, the thing will have its head off by the end of the year." Draco said with a smirk.

"It's just an animal!" she sputtered, "He didn't know any better!"

"It tried to kill me, Hermione." Draco glowered at her.

"You provoked him!" she spat angrily, "If you had just _listened,_ you wouldn't be in this mess! And you were _scratched_ Draco, it's not the end of the world."

"Father doesn't think so." he said flatly.

"Do you listen to everything your father says?" she said, shooting him an evil glare.

"Of course, I'm his heir." he said, as if that was explanation enough.

Hermione huffed and stomped out the door, leaving her three confused friends in her wake.

* * *

"Hermione!" Daphne yelled as soon as she stepped into the Slytherin common room. It was filled with more students than usual, normally the first years would be off to bed at this time.

"Where have you bloody been?" growled Blaise, to her surprise.

"I was coming back from the library! Why? What's happened?" she asked, as Daphne wrapped her in a tight hug.

"It's horrible Hermione! _Sirius Black is in Hogwarts._ " her blonde friend said, with a tremble in her voice.

"Sirius?" echoed Hermione, "What are you talking about?"

"He tried breaking into the Lion's Den, slashed their portrait wide open. We're waiting for the prefects to bring us to the Great Hall, Dumbledore wants the castle checked for signs of Black." a voice said from behind her.

She turned to face Theo, who was already in his pajamas, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

"He wants us to _sleep_ in the Great Hall?" she said, her face twisted in disbelief.

"Better get changed, Mione." Theo said, eyes twinkling. "Your royal sleeping bag awaits."

Hermione forced the grimace off her face and ran to her dorms to freshen up and change into her night gown, still worried about sleeping on the floor. What would her mother think?

She returned to the common room just as the students began filing out. Hermione fell in step with her friends, mind racing. If Sirius truly was in Hogwarts, then she was one step closer to finding her lost uncle.

The Great Hall was already filled with people when they got there, all clutching purple sleeping bags and buzzing with gossip. Her house opted to be farthest away from the others, not risking their chances with the possibility that the Weasley twins might prank them in their sleep.

"How do you think he did it?" Blaise asked the next morning, over breakfast.

"Apparated in?" suggested Crabbe.

Theo snorted into his pumpkin juice, "You can't Apparate inside Hogwarts."

"Maybe he flew on a broomstick?" said Pansy.

"There are protective spells for that." Hermione brushed off. "The only way to get into Hogwarts is by walking into it."

That left the group in a quite silence, each thinking up their own theories.

* * *

Professor Snape stepped into their DADA class, and a confused silence fell over them. The dark haired man cleared his throat and opened his textbook with a flourish of his wand.

"Professor Lupin is _unwell_ today." he said with a slight sneer, eliciting smirks from several students from his house. Hermione though, frowned, deep in thought. "I will be taking his place temporarily. Today we shall discuss werewolves."

Ernie Macmillan's hand went up immediately, "Sir, we've only just finished discussing Red Caps —"

"Yes, I know, quite a disappointment there, but be that as it may, MacMillan, today we turn to page 394." the professor said, eyeing his class with beady black eyes, "Now! All of you!"

Hermione shared a look with Blaise, who hid a snicker with his hand, and both students turned to the required page.

"Which one of you can tell me the difference between a werewolf and a true wolf?" said Snape, eyeing the class of Hufflepuffs and Slytherins. Macmillan's hand shot into the air once again, quicker than even Hermione's reflexes, but the girl smirked as her head of house ignored the 'Puff and zeroed in on her. "Yes, Miss Dagworth-Granger?"

She smiled sweetly at Macmillan and stood, the Hufflepuffs eyeing her warily as she did, "Sir, a werewolf and a true wolf vary in many small ways, werewolves most commonly have a shorter snout, human-like eyes, a tufted tail, and their behavior during the full moon - their mindless hunting of humans."

Snape nodded his approval and droned on, "One can identify a werewolf during the waxing moon by observing his reactions in the weeks leading up to the full moon …"

When the bell rang, the Hufflepuffs were down thirty points, and the Slytherins up by forty. Snape held them back last thy were fixing their rucksacks.

"You will each write an essay to be handed in to me, on the ways you recognize and kill werewolves. I want two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning. It is time somebody took this class in hand." he sneered.

* * *

"Crookshanks!" Hermione cried, sighting the ball of orange fur sitting in front of the Slytherin fire. She hurried past the tables, scooping her familiar in her arms. "There you are, you naughty boy, I haven't seen you for days."

"I found him wandering about the Gryffindor side of the castle while I was doing my prefect's rounds." a voice said from the couch in front of her. She started, unaware that there was anyone else in the room. It was quite late, just a little past curfew.

"Higgs?" she said, as the speaker turned towards her, fast cast in a green glow from the fire.

"The one and only." he said, watching her run her fingers along the feline's fur. "It's past curfew, you know."

"Going to give me detention, Higgs?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

He chuckled, "Not this time, Granger. I'm an understanding person. Just make sure you don't get caught sneaking about from the library, yeah?"

"What makes you so sure I was in the library?" she asked.

"It's where you always are, Granger." he said offhandedly.

"And you know that how?" she asked, the smallest of smirks gracing her lips, as the boy tried to hide the faint flush that crept into his cheeks.

"I'm a prefect," he said, trying to play it off, "it's my job to know."

"Hermione?" someone called from the other end of the room.

Draco stood by the entrance of the boys' dormitories, hair uncharacteristically mussed, and wearing green striped pajamas.

"Draco?" she said, "What are you doing up?"

"I better go." Terrence said, pushing himself up front the couch. "Don't let your cat wander around next time." He brushed past Draco, disappearing into the dimly lit hall.

"What was that about?" Draco said, nearing her, his face wrinkled in disdain.

"He found Crooks for me." Hermione explained. "Oh, stop making that face, you'll get age lines."

He rolled his eyes at her, then suddenly became serious, "Hermione, I- I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry if I've upset you, with the hippogriff and —"

"It's alright Draco, I know." she said, smiling.

"So — you're alright with the trial?" he said in disbelief.

"Of course not." she scoffed. "I just know better than to scream at you, as if that would do Buckbeak any good."

"B-buckbeak?" he sputtered.

"Yes, he's the poor hippogriff that you've got caught up in this mess." she said. "I'm doing whatever I can to try and save his life."

"Hermione, my father won't let this go, I owned him to withdraw his complaint but —"

"You did?" she said, with a look of shock on her face.

"Yeah," Draco said, running a hand through his hair, "I figured that the thing didn't need to be killed, you were right."

She enveloped him in a tight embrace, surprising the both of them.

"Thank you, Draco." she said, pulling away awkwardly. "I'll still try to save him, though."

He nodded, still trying to find his voice after the odd occurrence that just happened.

"Well, good night, Draco." she said, hastily making her way to her room.

"Good night." he croaked to any empty room.


	18. Chapter 18 : Nouvel Ami

**Chapter 18 : Nouvel Ami**

"Remind me why I haven't strangled you yet, Zabini?" she said scathingly to the boy beside her. She was dripping wet, her green Slytherin robes were ruined, even though she was under a large umbrella, her hair lay limp on her shoulders, and she felt as dismal as she looked.

"It's because of your secret love for my brilliance and intellect." the boy said to her with a toothy grin.

She growled, ready to snap at him, when she was suddenly overcome by a horrible wave of cold, chilling her to the bone.

"Blaise…" she whispered, clutching her friend as they all caught sight of the dark cloaked dementors approaching the pitch. She watched with horrified fascination as the sky somehow grew darker, and Harry Potter, who was perfectly fine a minute before, was now tumbling lifelessly off his broom.

Their Headmaster was suddenly on the field, his periwinkle robes billowing against the wind, waving his wand madly, and bellowing with all his might. Hermione watched as wisps of silver smoke flew out of his wand, forming the shape of something and chased the dementors away.

"Blaise…" she said, fear slipping into her voice, "… is he _dead_?"

* * *

She watched him silently from the shadows, as he mumbled and thrashed about in his sleep, realizing that he was in the middle of a nightmare. Hermione Dagworth-Granger very rarely broke the rules, but tonight, she didn't care much. The boy who lived was looking very much out of life on his hospital bed, and it was a rather sad thing to watch.

Suddenly, the boy in question lurched forward, rousing from the nightmare, and blinked rapidly, as if momentarily forgetting where he was.

"Glad to see you're not dead, Potter." she said softly, making her presence known.

He started, caught by surprise, "Dagworth-Granger, is that you?" he asked, his voice raspy.

"The one and only." she said, smirking. "Need anything, Potter? A gallon of Dreamless Sleep maybe?"

"I could drown myself in the stuff and still have nightmares." he muttered. "What are you doing here?"

She noted the vague tone of hostility in his voice when he said so, and smiled. "Just seeing if the savior of the Wizarding world was still breathing." she said.

"What does it matter to you if I died?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

"It matters very much, Potter." she said, surprising him. "Who knows, we may still need you in the future."

He didn't respond, but gave her an odd look, "There's a way to hold them off you know." she said.

When he just started at her blankly, she sighed. "The dementors, Potter. You can keep them at bay with a charm."

"How?" he asked, intrigued.

"Ask a professor, Potter, someone who likes you, preferably." she suggested. "It's a difficult spell."

She turned to leave abruptly, when he called out, "Why are you helping me?"

"Like I said, Potter, we may still need you to save us."

She turned and walked away, hurrying through the halls of Hogwarts, when something caught her eye. A orange ball of fur was slinking into one of the alcoves. "Crooks?" Hermione whispered, and followed the cat.

She found her at the end of the alcove, playfully bounding about — in the company of a large black dog. Hermione stifled a gasp at the sight of him, he fur was matted and dirty, and his frame skeletal, as if he hadn't eaten in weeks.

"Crookshanks?" she whispered. "Who's your friend?"

The two animals snapped their heads at her, one in adoration and one in terror. The dog growled deep in its throat, but then the oddest thing happened. Her familiar hissed, as if scolding the anima;, and immediately it fell silent.

"Hello, there." Hermione said, carefully approaching them. "I wont hurt you. It's alright." she coaxed.

The dog glared at her outstretched hand warily, but then Crooks hissed once more, and the dog sent an annoyed look the cat's way. He shuffled closer, sniffing her, and thrust his snout under her hand, an invitation to pet him.

"There you go, boy." she cooed, not minding the matted fur. "That's a good Snuffles."

The dog stilled, and moved his head out of the way, glaring at her with grey eyes. If dogs had faces, she thought, he would have looked like someone highly irked.

"Don't like that name, do you?" she asked sweetly. The dog barked in reply. "Well, you better get used to it, Snuffles."

He growled, but allowed her to resume her petting. "You have such beautiful fur," she said sadly, "Black as night, you are. I'm a Black too, you know, boy. We're one of the same."

He barked, and she suddenly remembered where she was. "Oh, Merlin, what am I doing?" she said to herself. "I'm sorry Snuffles, I have to go or else Filch might catch me."

The dog barked in reply, as if telling her it was alright, and she slipped out into the hall, Crookshanks trailing behind her.

* * *

Hermione resisted the urge to laugh as her Potions partner sat gingerly back on his seat, with a look of disgust on his face. Crocodile heart was _not_ a pleasant thing to be pelted with. Snape quickly pounced on a howling Ron Weasley, deducting 50 points from the lions, much to their chagrin, and to the amusement of the Slytherins.

She worked alongside Draco peacefully, Potions was the only time where they worked fluidly, each in their element, and once again, they were given an approving nod from their head of house — which they took as high praise, since Potter's brew was immediately tossed by the surly Slytherin.

"I hope Snape still teaches Defense today." said Draco. "Lupin's such a burden to look at."

"And you aren't?" Hermione said, rolling her eyes as the group rounded a corner, approaching their room just as the Gryffindors began pouring out looking cheery — no Snape, then.

Professor Lupin had the class set aside their books the moment they settled down, and brought out a glass box containing a hinkypunk, its wispy body floating around. Hermione had to admit, although the state of his clothes was depressing, the man could capture the attention of the class without having to glare at them, like they Potions professor, which she admired.

She spent the rest of the class observing him, he had changed drastically since the last time they saw him; he was more lively somehow, and had a shine to his eyes that wasn't there a few weeks ago. His skin was littered with small cuts, most too faint to see, she had to squint to see most of them. She watched him clasp his hands nervously when one Hufflepuff asked about the werewolf assignment, and draw a shallow breath before replying.

Hermione _knew_ , of course she did, it was very plain to see, if you knew what you were looking for and when to look for it, and Lupin ticked all the boxes on the list. Now, all she had to do was decide what to make of that information.

* * *

She ducked behind a statue of a bearded wizard, looking out for any sign of Filch or Mrs Norris. When there was none, she crept through the halls until she came upon a familiar alcove. Hermione set Crookshanks down, and waited for the arrival of their new friend.

A sound of stones being moved around alerted them, and then they were once again in the company of the huge black dog, who was wagging his tail in excitement. "Hey there, boy." she said, petting him softly. "Look what we've brought you."

She he held out the basket in her arms, and took off the cloth. Inside was a dozen pieces of chicken legs, a bit of sausage, and black pudding. The house elves had been more than happy to prepare her a smorgasbord of left overs when she'd slipped into the kitchens after dinner.

Their canine companion leapt on the food eagerly, and a few moments later, the food was gone. She laughed adoringly, and pet him again.

"Sorry if that's all I brought you, boy, I couldn't risk bring more." she said, not feeling at all odd for talking to a dog. "But there's a murderer on the loose, you know, can't be too careful. His name's Sirius Black, have you heard of him?"

The dog barked, making her grin. "Well, I call him Uncle Sirius." she said, not noticing the dog staring silently at her with brilliant grey eyes as she rambled. "I've never met him, but my Grandfather Alphard says he was a good man, and I believe him because my grandfather is one of the greatest men I know."

The dog barked again — as if agreeing with her.

"You're a funny dog, Snuffles." she said, "Sometimes, it feels like you understand everything I'm saying."

* * *

"Psst —Theo!" she said, making the boy jump. He turned, halfway along the dungeon corridor, to see Hermione peering out at him from behind a suit of armor, her fur-lined cloak covering her up to her neck.

"Hermione?" he said, "Why aren't you with Daphne? She just passed, looking for you."

"Shh!" she hissed urgently, motioning him closer, "Quiet, Theodore! She might hear you."

"Hermione, why are you hiding from Daphne?" he asked curiously. As he stepped closer to the witch he realized that her hair had been swept out of her face into an intricate braid, and her eyelids were shining with some sort of glitter, his breath hitched as he realized how close he was to her.

"I've been up since five in the morning trying to get away from her — I've only just succeeded, and barely!" she said worriedly, "Theo you have to help me. One more word about shoes and winter coats and I'm going to go mental!"

He began to chuckle, only to be silenced by a sharp glare from his friend. "Alright," he coughed into his hand, "Operation Avoid the Grass is in action." he said, earning himself a smile from her.

"I thought you liked shopping and all that girl stuff." he said, as they walked together to Hogsmeade.

"I do, really, but there's only so much I can take." she said, with an exhale. "I can't very well spend an _entire_ day talking about what's on the new winter witch catalogue."

"You can spend an entire day talking about Aldous Hink's new edition of _Animagi and Animal._ " he pointed out.

"That's different." she said, laughing. "That means something, and it's important, you know? I have a limited amount of space in my brain and I will not waste it on the color of the season or things like that."

"So you fill it with steps to becoming an Animagus?" he asked with a raised brow, "Is there something you're not telling me, Hermione?"

"Oh, hush, " she admonished, "It's just nice to know. Besides, it's illegal to become an Animagus without the proper training."

The pair stepped out the doors of Hogwarts, and were met with a sudden chill, causing her to draw her cloak closer together.

"You should have worn a thicker cloak." he said, noticing the shiver that passed through her.

"This is my thickest one. It's my robes that are killing me — Daphne said it would be fine if I just wore the cloak around it, but my bones are freezing and I have half a mind to smother that witch in her sleep."

"I can help you with that?" he said, grinning.

"What?" she said, teasingly, and blinking at him with wide eyes "Are you going to offer me your robe Theodore Nott?"

His heart jumped to his throat, but he still somehow managed to chuckle, "I was just going to do a couple of heating charms."

"Have at it, then." she said, raising he arms. "Merlin knows I need it."

He waved his wand swiftly, and she was engulfed in a wave of warmth that drove the cold away. "Thanks, Theo." she smiled, as they began their descent into Hogsmeade.

After stopping by Scrivenshaft's to stock up on quills and parchment for the next term, the two made their way to Honeydukes, carefully avoiding any green garbed blonde that came their way. After Honeydukes, they bumped into Draco, Crabbe and Goyle, who were on their usual reign of terror.

"Theo, would you mind terribly if we stopped for a bit of food?" she said, "I haven't eaten since dinner last night."

"You should have said something earlier." he said, leading her in the direction of the Three Broomsticks.

"Hermione Mira Dagworth-Granger!" an angry voice called out before they could take another step.

She and Theo both froze, turning slowly.

"For Salazar's sake, Hermione, you have to change your bloody name." said Blaise, as they approached.

"Shut up, Zabini." snapped Daphne, turning her blue eyed glare on Hermione. "Where were you?"

"Oh, er," she fumbled, running a hand through the tassels of her scarf. "Well, Theo here —"

"Was supposed to go with me." Blaise said, eyebrow raised in challenge, Theo gave her a sheepish smile.

"Oh, alright, I was skivving off shopping." she admitted to her friend.

"The _one time_ you skive off something and its shopping!" huffed Daphne in disbelief, "Honestly, Hermione, i don't know what I'm going to do with you."

"You know you love me." Hermione said impishly, hooking her arm through Daphne's. "Come on, I'll buy you a Butterbeer as an apology."

"Drinks on Hermione!" Blaise cheered happily.

"You better make it two." grumbled Daphne. "I was the one who had to spend all morning with that idiot."

"I resent that!" protested the boy.

"Shut up, Zabini."

* * *

"Maman! Papa!" she waved to her parents as soon as she saw them. They beamed at her as she approached and her father took her luggage from her.

"Hello, my sweet." he mother cooed, as Hermione kissed both of her cheeks.

"Bonjour, mon petit." said her father, smiling at her.

"Bonjour." she said, grinning widely. "Come on, Maman, Papa, I have to ask grandfather about a hippogriff."


	19. Chapter 19 : Deuxième Entrée

**Chapter 19 : Deuxième Entrée**

Hermione had been in a mood the entire winter break, not even Christmas could cheer her up. Grandfather Alphard, had regretfully told her that no magical creature had ever escaped free from the Ministry after attacking a wizard, and factoring in Lucius Malfoy, the poor beast was good as dead.

The old man, consumed by guilt at having placed his granddaughter in such a mood, had tried prying her out of it. He showered her in presents come Christmas day, and did his best to place a smile on her face, but the young girl was adamant. She locked herself in the library for hours on end, head buried in research, and yet her grandpapa's words rang true — there wasn't a single case where the magical creature had been allowed its freedom.

"Hermione." Alphard said, knocking the door to her room. It was the last day of Christmas break and he wanted to bid her farewell.

"Come in." a soft voice said from the other side.

He opened the door to find his granddaughter on her bed, surrounded by books, as Mimi packed her trunk rapidly.

"Do you have the time for you poor old grandfather, dear?" he asked, with a sad smile. Immediately, the girl looked contrite as she set down her book and patted the space next to her.

"I'm sorry, grandpapa." she said with wide eyes. "I've been acting like such a brat recently, but I have no choice! I can't let Lucius Malfoy get away with this!"

Alphard sighed, and pat his grandchild's head fondly. "It's Lord Malfoy, my dear, and he does as he pleases."

"I'll call him Lord Malfoy again once he drops his charges against Buckbeak." she said, with a fierce determination.

"Hermione." Alphard said sternly, "Lucius is still your Uncle, and you will respect him, as a proper young lady should."

"Yes grandfather." she said, trying not to let her dislike for the man show.

"I know it seems unfair, child, but that's just how the world works." he said, "Nothing is fair, it only is. As a Slytherin, you should know this."

She nodded in understanding, and hugged her grandfather tightly. "I'm going to miss you Grandpere. I'm sorry I haven't been the best grandchild lately."

"My darling," the Black paterfamilias said with twinkling eyes, "You will always be the best grandchild in the universe. I couldn't ask for more."

* * *

Hermione boarded the Hogwarts Express with a tired sigh — the break hadn't been very relaxing. Contrary to the belief of her family, the hours she had spent in the library were not only dedicated to saving the hippogriff, but also for training. Hermione had set her mind to learning the Patronus Charm the day Potter had been knocked off his broom, and practicing the magic without getting caught had tired her out significantly.

It was worthwhile though, because on the last few days of Christmas vacation, she had succeeded in casting a full, corporeal Patronus. She had laughed joyfully as she watched the black and brown fox pouncing around the library, amazed at how her magic had been able to create it. She felt rather guilty for choosing not to spend time with her family, but there were more important things at hand.

Hermione waved at her friends happily as she saw them approach the carriage she was sitting in. Draco, Daphne, Pansy, Blaise and Theo lumbered in.

Draco began his grumbling the moment he entered the carriage.

"What's wrong with him now?" she whispered to Daphne, who had taken the seat next to her.

"He's just heard that Potter was given a Firebolt for Christmas." her friends whispered in reply.

"So? It's just a bro —"

"Don't!" Blaise growled, "Don't even finish that sentence, you uneducated witch."

"Uneducated? Honestly, Blaise Zabini, if I'm uneducated you might as well be a troll." she huffed, annoyed.

"The Firebolt is the best broom in the world! It isn't even being sold yet — only top Quidditch players have it." he continued dreamily, as if she hadn't said anything.

"You'd think the broom was a girl, the way he's talking about it." she whispered to Daphne, who giggled, much to Blaise's annoyance.

* * *

A week after the start of term, the Slytherin dungeons was alight in celebration, the House was rejoicing at having earned top spot in the rosters for the Quidditch Cup, having beat Ravenclaw earlier that day. Hermione had ran down to congratulate Draco immediately after, and the blonde boy beamed with pride, waving the Snitch in the air as his Housemates cheered his team on.

Hermione had attended the game only because Blaise had dragged her into it, if he hadn't she would still be in the library. She was glad that she had been tutored well before coming to Hogwarts, or else she would be drowning under the weight of her immense workload.

A few nights later, Blaise whispered to Theo, when he'd thought she was too caught up in her coursework to notice.

"How's she doing it?" he muttered to the green eyed boy.

"Doing what?"

"Getting to all her classes!" Blaise said. "I heard her talking to the Arithmancy witch this morning. They were going on about yesterday's lesson, but she couldn't have been there, because she was with us in Care of Magical Creatures!"

Theo just shook his head at his friend; he was busy with his own problems at the moment, Professor McGonagall had required a three thousand word essay on Animated Tranfiguration, and he was only up to one thousand eight hundred fourty three.

At that moment, a scowling Draco entered the common room, followed by Crabbe and Goyle.

"What's got your knickers all tied up, mate?" Blaise asked, as the blonde threw himself on the couch. Hermione set her quill down to listen momentarily.

"Potter's got his bloody broom back." he grumbled, making Hermione roll her eyes and resume her writing. Boys and their Quidditch, honestly.

She left them to go on with their rambling, drowning out their voices with her thoughts, not for one moment thinking that Draco had something planned for the scarred seeker.

Hermione left the Slytherin common room as soon as it was empty. After taking a quick trip to the kitchens, she crept through the castle, wicker basket in hand, and the smell of meat wafting through the air.

Although she had much on her mind, with her lessons, and her extra studies, and Sirius Black, she had not forgotten her new friend. Every night, she would sneak out to meet him at their little hidden part of the castle, and talk to him as he enjoyed his food. Snuffles was growing stronger every day, and his ribs were no longer painfully seen.

"Snuffles, Crooks?" she called out.

Crookshanks cam sashaying out first, followed by the large black dog. "Hey there, i brought you something." she said, setting the food in front of him, and petting him fondly on the head.

She scooped Crookshanks into her arms, observing her feline familiar. "Crooksie, is that _blood_ on your whiskers? Have you been chasing rats again?" scolded Hermione.

Crookshanks only meowed lazily in reply.

"At least Snuffles doesn't go around hunting rats, right Snuffles?"

But the dog merely looked at her with his grey eyes, then went back to eating his food.

* * *

"YOU DID _WHAT?"_ shrieked Hermione, glaring at a contrite looking Draco. Her friends were trying to hide their smirks as the curly haired witch berated the Malfoy heir.

"It was just a prank!" he said, defending himself.

"ARE YOU A MALFOY OR A WEASLEY?!" she yelled, a red flush seeping into her face, "It was immature and cowardly and you lost points for Slytherin! Now we all have to pay for your antics!"

Draco had the decency to look embarrassed. "I'm writing Lady Malfoy about your stupid little prank." she snapped, turning sharply. "Just wait until your mother hears about this. _Perfect example of pureblood pedigree, my arse!"_

* * *

Someone was shaking her. She cracked her eyes open to find Daphne looming over her with a worried look on her face. "Hermione, wake up. _Sirius Black is in the castle again._ "

She shot up, wide awake. "What?" she asked.

"Get up, Hermione!" the blonde said urgently, we have to get to the common room. They're doing another search. Here are your robes, put them on."

She shrugged on her pale green night robes, and padded down the hall next to Daphne, who was holding on to her tightly. Pansy could be hear chattering to Tracey Davis behind them.

"Have they found them?" she asked the boys, once they were together.

"Not yet, Higgs is contacting Professor Snape if we're allowed to go back to bed yet." Theo said somberly.

"I don't think I could go back to sleep knowing that a mass murderer is roaming the halls of Hogwarts." Daphne said with a shudder.

"What happened, exactly?" Hermione asked.

Before any of her friends could reply, someone answered from behind her. "Ron Weasley claims that he saw Sirius Black standing over him with a knife in his hand." she jumped in surprise, turning to find Terrence Higgs grinning at her.

"Jumpy, are we, Granger?" he said smirking.

"Shut it." she said, rolling her eyes. "But why would he go after Weasley? I thought he had it in for Potter."

The prefect shrugged, "He might've just had the wrong bed."

"Can we go back to bed now, Terrence?" she asked, giving him a small smile.

"Yeah, that was what I was going to tell you." he said, running a hand through his hair, "Snape says the castle's been cleared."

"Thank you." she said with a nod.

She and her friends turned to leave, when she felt a hand wrap around her arm.

"Are you going to be alright, Hermione?" Terrence asked, with a clear look of concern on his face.

"I'll be fine. He won't come after me, I'm his niece." she said with a laugh.

"Let's home insane murderers still care as much about family as you do, then." he said, grinning. "Night, Hermione."

Daphne and Pansy dragged her away before she could reply, their claws digging into her skin. "Girls!" she exclaimed. "Your manicures are like talons!"

"He called you Hermione!" hissed Pansy.

"And you called him Terrence!" hissed Daphne

"He ran a hand through his hair while smiling at you!" said Pansy

"And you smiled back!" said Daphne.

"What the bloody hell is going on?!" they said together.

"Language." Hermione admonished. "Terrence is just a friend! He helped me with Crookshanks last term, that's all."

"It sure didn't look like you were just friends." snorted Pansy.

"Oh, come off it, you two. I don't like Terrence like that." she said, rolling her eyes.

Pansy huffed, "It's not fair! You two," she motioned to Hermione and Daphne, "have the Slytherin boys groveling at your feet! I will not be stuck with Crabbe and Goyle!"

She and Daphne rolled their eyes at their friend's theatrics. "You're being a tad bit dramatic, Pans." Daphne said, laughing.

"And Daphne's to blame for all the groveling, I'm only caught up through association." Hermione said.

"Besides, you can always go for Flint." Daphne said, earning a slap on the arm from Pansy.

* * *

To say Hermione was a little paranoid was an understatement. All day she spied signs of the professors trying to strengthen the security around the castle, and an uneasy feeling had taken up residence in the pit of her stomach.

The Slytherins had overheard Ron Weasley babbling about his near death experience with Sirius Black, though he looked as if he was enjoying the attention that was usually directed to Potter. The same could not be said for Neville, who was practically cowering under his fellow Gryffindor's disappointment.

Hermione was the only Slytherin not to laugh, and the only one to console the boy two days later when his grandmother had sent him the Howler, vanishing the remains of the red envelope when it had finished its job.

"I really didn't mean to lose it." the boy choked out after a while.

"I know you didn't, Neville." she said softly. "It was an accident."

"It's just that everything's been so messed up lately. Harry's been raving about Sirius Black and Quidditch, and Ron's rat is missing, and Buckbeak's going on trial soon —"

"Hey," Hermione said kindly, her heart aching at the mention of the hippogriff. "It's going to be alright Neville."

"Yeah, I guess it is." the boy said, flushing. He had suddenly realized who he was talking to and straightened his back a little more. "Well, see you Hermione."

She watched the odd boy scuffle away, stumbling a little as he went up the stairs, and stifled a giggle.

* * *

Hermione had been forced to appease her best friend for her digressions the last Hogsmeade weekend by allowing Daphne to cart her along through Hogsmeade doing whatever the blonde witch pleased.

That was how she found herself in one of the little boutiques in the town, trying on a dress that Daphne had thrown at her. She inspected herself in the mirror half-heartedly, paying attention to her reflection. She had grown a few inches, and her curves were only just beginning to appear, the dress she was wearing made her look like she had more than she really did, and it brought out the hidden green flecks in her eyes.

A movement from outside the shop caught her eye, revealing a smiling Terrence Higgs waving at her from the display window.

She smiled, and gestured for him to come inside.

"Good morning, Hermione." the boy said with a smile that could have beat Gilderoy Lockhart's.

"Morning, Terrence." she said. "All alone?"

"Yeah, my friends went of to the Hog for a bit of illicit card games — I have to keep the guise of perfection, what with being a prefect and everything."

She laughed, earning a grin from the sandy haired boy.

"Hermione? What do think about this one?" Daphne's voice came floating from the back of the shop. The blonde witch emerged fro behind a set of purple curtains, in a beautiful dark blue dress that made her hair look like spun gold. The Slytherin stopped in her tracks as soon as she saw the fifth year boy standing next to her friend.

"Oh, i didn't know you had company. " Daphne muttered, her confidence suddenly depleted.

But Hermione had other ideas, with an innocent smile, she took Terrence by the arm, dragging him towards Daphne. The boy actually look a little dumbstruck at the sight of the blue eyed witch. "Oh, Daphne you look beautiful!" she gushed, "Don't you think so, Terrence?"

"Uh, yeah — you look amazing." he said, with a shy smile. "I'm Terrence, by the way."

"I'm Daphne." Hermione's best friend said shyly, batting her eyelashes at the boy.

Hermione chose this time to slip away, changing into her regular clothes quickly, and escaping the clutches of her friend. They didn't even hear her exit the shop, both too engrossed in what the other was saying.

As soon as Hermione left the shop, she was met by a foul-smelling odor. Draco Malfoy had stormed right past her, along with Crabbe and Goyle, all three drenched in some kind of muck, with enraged looks on their faces.

"What do you think those three do when they disappear together?" an amused voice said from behind her.

"From the looks of it, they pretend they're farm animals." she said, giggling. "Hello, Theo."

"Hey, Mione." the boy said, falling in step with the witch. "I saw what you did back there with Daphne and Higgs."

"Are you spying on me, Theodore Nott?" she teased.

"I don't need to. You tell me all your secrets, anyways." he shot back.

She laughed, and the two turned a corner.

"Why'd you do that? Set Daphne up with Higgs? I thought you liked him?"

Hermione scrunched her nose, "Who told you that?"

Theo shrugged his shoulders in reply.

"I don't. He's just friendly. Besides, Daph's had a crush on him since we stepped into Hogwarts, I wouldn't do that to her."

Hermione failed to see the pleased smile that crept onto Theo's face as they walked.

* * *

Have you guys noticed how utterly obsessed I am with Theodore? Don't fret though, this is still a Dramione fic, and they will most definitely end up together somehow.

Also, for those who are confused about Hermione's beliefs, well that's how she feels too. Imagine if you were raised by Purebloods parents, but had a grandfather with a totally different set of beliefs — she doesn't know what to make of it yet, whether she should follow what she's taught, or what she feels is right.


	20. Chapter 20: Le Saule Pleureure

**Chapter 20 : Le Saule Pleureure**

"GRANGER!" someone bellowed, his voice echoing throughout the halls. She whipped her head, to see a red faced Ron Weasley approaching, a scowl on his face.

" _What?"_ she snapped, glaring at the boy.

"Your bloody cat ate my rat!" the red haired boy growled.

"I think you're a decade late on the nursery rhymes, Weasley" she retorted with a snort.

The boy raised something in his fist, looking like a tuft of orange hair that matched Crookshanks' fur perfectly. "Looks familiar to you, doesn't it, Granger?"

"Right, as if my cat is the only tabby in the _entire castle_." she sneered. "Don't you have something better to do with your life other than accuse people you're jealous of?"

" _I'm not ruddy jealous of you!"_ said Weasley.

"Aren't you?" she said, bitingly. "I'm smarter than you, richer than you, and better looking too boot _._ "

She could almost see him flush a deeper red, if that was possible. He brought out his wand quicker than she expected and shot a hex before she could cast a shield charm.

She felt a tingle in her head, and she touched it to find that it was no longer in a perfect braid down the length of her back. She probably looked like she'd been electrocuted.

The Weasel laughed, "Well, you look just like your mangy cat to me, Granger."

Laughter broke out from around the hall, and she saw that some students had stopped to watch their altercation and were now laughing at her expense.

"You're going to pay for that, Weasley." she muttered darkly, brandishing her wand.

Before the boy could reacted, she blasted him backwards with a loud " _Expelliarmus!"_ His wand flew straight into her outstretched hand. " _Levicorpus!"_ she yelled, and the boy was immediately hung upside down in the air. " _Colloshoo!"_ Weasley then dropped to the ground with a thud. The flame haired boy struggled to get up, but the stickfast jinx pinned him to the ground.

" _Stop!"_ someone from the crowd yelled. All of a sudden, Neville Longbottom stepped out, looking uneasy. Hermione narrowed her eyed at the boy, not lowering her wand, even though Neville was yet to brandish his.

"What is the meaning of this?!" a stern voice called out.

Professor McGonagall stormed onto the scene, and muttered a swift " _Finite Incantatem_." Weasley stood, clutching his arm, his face contorted in pain.

"It seems to be broken." muttered Professor McGonagall. "Thirty points from Slytherin and Gryffindor for fighting in the halls."

"But Professor, he started it!" Hermione said.

"Do you want me to make it fifty, Miss Dagworth-Granger?" the Professor said.

"No, ma'am." she said, hanging her head.

"Longbottom, take Weasley up to Madam Pomfrey to have his arm set." McGonagall ordered. "Everyone, back to your classes!"

"Hermione!"

She was suddenly surrounded by her friends, who looked giddy. "You broke his arm, Mione! Good on ya!" said Blaise.

"That wasn't supposed to happen." she said, guiltily, glancing int he direction Neville and Weasley had disappeared to.

"Doesn't matter." said Draco. "Serves the Weasley right for disrespecting you."

"Let me take care of that ghastly hair, Hermione." Daphne said, already mumbling glamour charms.

* * *

They found out that Weasley was a fairly good charm caster. His hair charm had lasted for a good three days, and Hermione was forced to walk around with her frizzy hair until it wore off. Neville hadn't so much as glanced her way since, the fight, which had her feeling even more guilty for breaking Weasley's wrist.

The students from other houses were avoiding her too, and whispering as she passed. It seemed that hexing Harry Potter's best friend did not bring her as much fame to the rest of Hogwarts as it did within Slytherin House.

Hermione tried talking to Neville one afternoon, but was met only with a sneer that seemed out of place on the boy's face.

"I thought you were different, Hermione, but you're no better than Malfoy." said the boy.

Tears prickled the back of her eyes, and she resisted the urge to point out that it was Weasley that threw the first spell, lest she aggravate the situation. Neville Longbottom wasn't an intimidating person, but in that moment, Hermione had never felt smaller.

"No, Draco, I don't want to see the Shrieking Shack. Why would I?" she said, rolling her eyes.

"Because it's haunted! Come on!" he whined. Blaise and Theo stood next to them, along with Crabbe and Goyle, who were looking at the exchange with blank expressions.

"Fine. It's better than trying on earrings for two hours, I guess." she muttered, allowing herself to be dragged along the muddy streets of Hogsmeade.

Draco began to drone on immediately the boy was still irked that the hippogriff who'd attacked him was still roaming free, and Hermione had to use all the restraint she could muster to keep herself from snapping at him.

"What are you doing here, Weasley?" Draco's voice said, cutting through the breeze.

"Morgana, why me?" she muttered, as Theo and Blaise stepped closer to her, eyeing the ginger warily.

"Suppose you'd love to live here, wouldn't you, Weasley? Dreaming about having your own bedroom? I heard your family all sleep in one room — is that true?" Draco said, grinning malevolently.

Hermione prayed that the other boy didn't fall for the blonde's goading, but Weasley was Weasley, and he immediately started towards Draco. Miraculously, he stopped, and looked over his shoulder at something invisible.

"What, Weasel? Nothing to say?" Draco said. "You know, we were just discussing your friend Hagrid —"

SPLAT.

Hermione watched Draco's head jerk forward, as a giant pile of mud hit him, dripping down the back of his head. She whipped her head back, trying to find the source, when another pile of mud came flying at them, hitting Goyle square on the chest, and splattering her face.

She growled angrily, and brandished her wand. "What are you playing at, Weasley?"

"Didn't you hear, Snake?" he sneered. "This place is haunted. I guess ghosts don't like the stench of Dark Wizards."

Crabbe and Goyle had begun blundering around, trying to outrun whatever was slinging mud at them, and somehow, Crabbe came crashing down, and Hermione saw a flash of dark hair and glasses. It was only for a second, but she knew it was there.

"AAARGH!" Draco yelled, pointing at where the floating head had appeared, and made a run for it. Hermione shot a stinging jinx at the place where Potter's head had been, before being hauled by Blaise down the hill.

"Fucking Weasel." growled Blaise, brushing off the dirt from his robes. "This was designer."

"You sound like Daphne." Theo snorted, after pointing a Scourgify at Hermione's face.

"Thanks." she said to her friend. wiping her face to make sure it was all gone.

"What are we going to do about that?" Blaise said evilly.

"Leave it. Draco's probably gotten back to the castle to tattle already. I'm tired of dealing with those Gryffindors." she said with a sigh.

* * *

When Draco came stunting out of the boy's dormitories, hair gelled back and free of mud, Hermione was surprised to find a blinding grin on his face.

"Alright, mate, what's with you?" Blaise said, from his seat in from of the fire.

"Father has sent me the best news ever." he said, throwing a piece of parchment on top of the coffee table.

Theo read it aloud for the rest of them.

 _"Draco,_

 _The trial is finished, we won, though I didn't not expect otherwise. The execution date is still pending. Expect my presence in Hogwarts soon._

 _Your Father"_

Hermione did not comment on the coldness of the man's words to his son, nor did she find it surprising. Lucius was not a loving man, she did not expect him to be a loving father either. She clenched her hand in a fist at the man's words, reigning her fury in.

"It's final then." she said, resisting the urge to glare at the blonde, who was still grinning giddily.

"Yep. I'm going to ask father if I'll be allowed to watch the thing's head getting chopped off."

She huffed at her friend's words going back to reading the book laid out in front of her. Sometimes, ignoring him really was the best way to go.

* * *

"Oi!" an angry voice bellowed as they were walking up from Care of Magical Creatures.

They turned to find a red-faced Weasley stomping up to meet them, trailing behind them were Potter and Longbottom, who both looked equally angered.

"Malfoy!" the ginger yelled. "You can tell your father to shove his wand up his arse!"

Draco smirked at the other boy. "What's wrong, Weasley? Did someone kill a hippogriff? Oops, I don't think that's happened … _yet_."

"Shut up you foul git! You're nothing but Deatheater scum! You and your father!" roared Weasley.

Theo, Crabbe, Blaise, and Goyle all made furious moves to the Gryffindor, but Hermione got there first — SLAP!

She brought her hand across Weasley's face as hard as she could, making the boy take a step back from the force.

"Don't you _dare_ call Draco that you — you —"

The red head laughed. "You're probably going to end up the same. Our very own Bellatrix Lestrange."

Hermione pulled out her wand, pointing it directly at him. "One more word, Weasley, I dare you."

He narrowed his eyes at her, before allowing Potter to pull him away.

"Bloody hell, remind me never to get on your bad side." Blaise said.

"You have my permission to ruin his life in whatever way you can." she said darkly.

The five boys glanced at one another with growing mirth.

* * *

In the following weeks approaching the Quidditch match against Gryffindor, her friends took her words to heart. The group of boys stopped at nothing to annoy Weasley and Potter, tripping them in the Great Hall, sending loosening charms to make his glasses fall off, and Hermione, true to her words, did nothing to stop it.

Occasionally, she would get a scathing look from Potter and Longbottom, making her feel a twinge of guilt, but then Weasley would sneer at her and the moment passed, anger taking its place. Although she couldn't spend much time thinking about it, the teachers kept pouring out homework, and even she struggled to keep up with the course load.

"Hermione, tell me you're coming to the match tomorrow." asked Blaise, setting down his quill, which left a growing ink spot on his piece of parchment.

"Even if I wasn't planning to, you would still scream at me until i did." she said from behind the wall of textbooks she had created for herself.

"Yes, but it would be so much easier if you went quietly."

"You'll be happy to know that I am, then." she said.

"Great. Oh, by the way, I haven't seen your little monster recently, did you finally see sense and return him to the Menagerie?"

"No." she said, glaring at him. "Crooks is probably just roaming around."

Silently, she reminded herself not to forget to visit Snuffles later that night.

* * *

Even Hermione couldn't deny the frustration she felt in the results of the match. The Slytherin common room was more quiet than usual, its bright green glow washing over their distraught faces. The thought of Potter and his sidekick rubbing the win in their faces added to their dismay.

It didn't help that the week that followed was one of the sunniest since they's arrived from the holidays. All around them, it seemed as if Gryffindors were celebrating, stopping at nothing to remind them of their loss. The Weasley twins appeared to be on the brink of making shirts for everyone to wear.

She cursed the timing of it all, the down trodden mood of her house was not helping the fact that she had a mountain load of work to do, especially with final exams approaching Not to mention that Draco had strolled into the common room on Saturday holding another piece of parchment declaring the hippogriff's appeal date, which was set after their exams.

Although Hermione was beating herself up for the handful of mistakes she had made for all her classes in total, she was slightly proud of herself for not going mad under the pressure, and mildly relieved that another year was over.

Right after their last exams, Draco received an owl telling him that Hagrid had lost the appeal and the beast was to be executed at sundown. Hermione sighed, her mood dampening. She excused herself from the group, mutter something about rechecking her test answers in the library.

She navigated her way around the castle, stopping in front of a familiar alcove, where a certain black dog and tabby cat awaited her.

"Hey there." she said, crouching to rub behind their ears. "You guys have nothing to worry about, don't you?"

But as soon as she said that, both Snuffles and Crooks stood alarmingly, sniffing the air around them. Snuffles took off, and the cat bounded after him, going faster than Hermione had ever seen.

"Get back here!" Hermione yelled, running after the two animals.


	21. Chapter 21: La Vérité

**Chapter 21 : La V** **érité**

"Crooks? Snuffles?" she called in between breaths, they had led her out of the castle onto the grounds, and the two animals were nowhere in sight, all she could see were two dark headed boys near the Whomping Willow arguing animatedly.

"We've got to go get him Nev!" yelled Potter.

"Harry — we've got to go for help." the other boy gasped. Hermione could see a growing red stain on his shoulder, she hung back cautiously, if whatever attacked them was still there, she was done for.

"If that dog can get in, we can." Potter panted, darting here and there around the Whomping Willow, puzzling the girl observing them.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Crookshanks darted forward, slithering around fallen branches and leaves. The tabby cat slid into a gap in the tree roots, and Potter, unbelievable, idiotic Potter followed, as well as Neville, who looked like he would rather be eaten alive.

"Bloody Gryffindors." she muttered, before following them.

She slid feet first along an earthy slope, cringing at what her mother would say when she saw the state of her robes, and landed to the bottom of a very low tunnel. She could just barely see Neville running behind Harry, the bespectacled boy's wand was lit, casting eerie shadows along the tunnel walls.

Hermione struggled to keep up with the two boys, cursing her mother for ordering her to sit around like a proper lady all the time. The tunnel reached a steep incline, until she had to hold back to let the boys through an opening at the top.

When their legs had disappeared, she followed, her wand arm at attention, pointing the instrument at whatever lay beyond the opening. Before her was a very dirty looking room. Paper was peeling from the walls, the only furniture not toppled over looked like had gone through a hurricane, the windows were all boarded up, and the floor looked as if the dust on it hadn't been disturbed for a hundred years.

She glanced around the room before pulling herself up from the opening, taking note of the disarray, legs of chairs were flung about over the room, looking as though something had chewed them off, claw marks ran across wallpaper all over the building, and something was nagging at the back of her head.

When she reached the end of the landing, only one door was open, she whispered "Nox." as soft as she could, and was immediately covered in darkness. She hang back, listening to the voices echoing out into the hall.

"It isn't a dog — trap — Harry, he's the dog — _he's an Animagus."_ came Weasley's pained voice.

Suddenly, the door slammed, leaving Hermione behind it in stunned silence. _Snuffles was an Animagus?_

 _"Expelliarmus!"_ a hoarse voice yelled from the other side, the voice reminded her scarily of someone she knew.

Something clicked at the back of her mind, and suddenly, she was in front of them, the door bursting open, the three Gryffindors looking at her in shock as she faced the man she had only ever seen in photographs before.

"Uncle Sirius?" she said, her clear voice slicing the tension in the room like a hot knife through butter.

* * *

He was filthy. His hair was matted, his bright eyes were sunken, his face was gaunt, stretched tightly as if he had been starving, she briefly wondered whether she should have added more meat to Snuffle's daily helpings, before brushing the thought away.

"Hello, my dear." the man croaked. His smile was ghastly, yellowed teeth peeked from behind cracked lips, desperately in need of a good scrub.

 _"I told you she was Death Eater scum!"_ screamed Weasley, breaking the stunned silence.

Sirius Black's attention was back on the three boys. "I thought you'd come and help your friend," he said. "Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you, not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful . . . it will make everything much easier. . . ."

Potter started forward, Hermione could see the anger in his eyes as he did, or tried to, as Neville and Weasley held him back.

"Uncle Sirius, please!" she begged, still not lowering her wand. "I know you're not a killer, Grandfather Alphard doesn't think so too. Come home, Uncle, we'll clear you're name —"

"Like hell! He killed my parents! And now he's out to finish his master's job!" roared Potter.

"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!" shouted Ron, though she could see it was taking all his remaining strength just to stand beside his best friend.

Hermione saw her Uncle's eyes flick to Weasley. "Sit down, boy, or you will damage that leg even more."

"Did you hear me?" Ron said weakly, though he was clinging painfully to Harry to stay upright. "You'll have to kill all three of us!"

"There'll be only one murder here tonight," said Black, and his grin widened.

There was a flash of something, Hermione realized too late that it was Potter, trying to pry Sirius' wand out of his hands. In an instant, he had her Uncle at wandpoint. A livid bruise was rising around Black's left eye and his nose was bleeding. "You killed my parents," said Harry, his voice shaking slightly, but his wand hand quite steady.

Black stared up at him out of those sunken eyes. "I don't deny it."

Hermione gasped, tears filling her eyes. This man, the man her Grandfather loved so dearly that he kept a picture of him in his wallet, had just confessed to the crime that they refused to believe he had committed.

"But if you knew the whole story."

"The whole story?" Potter spat, furiously. "You sold them to Voldemort. That's all I need to know."

"You've got to listen to me," Sirius said, and there was a note of urgency in his voice now. "You'll regret it if you don't. . . . You don't understand. . . ."

"I understand a lot better than you think," said Potter, and his voice shook more than ever. "You never heard her, did you? My mum . . . trying to stop Voldemort killing me . . . and you did that . . . you did it. . . ."

Hermione stilled. Did she just imagine it, or had she heard the soft thud of footsteps from outside the hall?

"Someone's else is in here." she whispered loud enough to catch the attention of the two Wizards in front of her.

Sirius made a startled movement as the footsteps began thundering up the stairs, and the door burst open again in a shower of red sparks to reveal Professor Lupin, his face pale, and wand at ready. His eyes flickered over Ron, lying on the floor, over Hermione, cowering next to the door, to Harry, standing there with his wand covering Black, and then to Black himself, crumpled and bleeding at Harry's feet.

"Expelliarmus!" Lupin shouted.

Potter's wand flew out of his hand, leaving the boy to gape at his Professor in shock.

"Where is he, Sirius?" said Lupin in a soft voice. Black's face was quite expressionless. For a few seconds, he didn't move at all. Then, very slowly, he raised his empty hand and pointed straight at Weasley.

Hermione heard Lupin mutter some things under his breath, his gaze never leaving her Uncle's. "Unless, you switched… without telling me?"

Sirius nodded, and almost instantly, Lupin was across the room, seizing Sirius and pulling him to his feet, and embraced him like a brother.

"Professor Lupin —" Potter started.

"Don't go any closer, Potter." she said, causing the boy to sneer at her.

"Shut up —"

"He's a werewolf." her words silenced the other boy. Her wand, still in her hand, was pointe towards the two men. "I trusted you. I didn't tell anyone. I've been covering for you _for months_."

"Hermione, listen —"

"You were his friend all along!" bellowed Potter.

"Let me explain!" roared Lupin, in return, he received the terrified silence of his three students.

"I must say Sirius, I think we've got a miniature you on our hands here." chuckled Lupin. "I've been observing you, my dear, ever since my class with the boggart, and it seems that you've been observing me too."

"I assume our old geezer of a Headmaster knows he hired a werewolf then?" she huffed.

"As does all the staff." said Lupin. ""He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I'm trustworthy —"

"AND HE WAS WRONG!" Harry yelled. "YOU'VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THE TIME!" He was pointing at Black, who suddenly crossed to the four-poster bed and sank onto it, his face hidden in one shaking hand.

"I have not been helping Sirius," said Lupin. "If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain."

"If you haven't been helping him," he said, with a furious glance at Black, "how did you know he was here?"

"The map," said Lupin. "The Marauder's Map. I was in my office examining it —"

"You know how to work it?" Harry said suspiciously.

"Of course I know how to work it," said Lupin, waving his hand impatiently. "I helped write it. I'm Moony — that was my friends' nickname for me at school."

"You wrote — ?"

"The important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening, because I had an idea that you, Ron, and Hermione might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his hippogriff was executed. And I was right, wasn't I?"

He had started to pace up and down, looking at them. Little patches of dust rose at his feet. "You might have been wearing your father's old cloak, Harry —"

"How d'you know about the cloak?" "The number of times I saw James disappearing under it. . . ," said Lupin, waving an impatient hand again.

"The point is, even if you're wearing an Invisibility Cloak, you still show up on the Marauder's Map. I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid's hut. Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid, and set off back toward the castle. But you were now accompanied by somebody else."

"What?" said Harry. "No, we weren't!"

"I couldn't believe my eyes," said Lupin, still pacing, and ignoring Harry's interruption. "I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you? And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labeled Sirius Black. . . . I saw him collide with you; I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow —"

"One of us!" Ron said angrily.

"No, Ron," said Lupin. "Two of you." He had stopped his pacing, his eyes moving over Ron.

"Do you think I could have a look at the rat?" he said evenly.

"What?" said Ron. "What's Scabbers got to do with it?"

"Everything," said Lupin. "Could I see him, please?"

The gears in Hermione's head were working themselves into overdrive as the redhead reached into his pocket to reveal a squirming rodent.

"That's not a rat," croaked Sirius Black suddenly."He's a wizard." "An Animagus," said Black, "by the name of Peter Pettigrew."

* * *

"Mental." Weasley announced. "The both of you. It's a rat!"

"Peter Pettigrew's dead!" said Harry. "He killed him twelve years ago!" He pointed at Black, whose face twitched convulsively.

"I meant to," he growled, his yellow teeth bared, "but little Peter got the better of me . . . not this time, though!" Sirius tried to lunge for Weasley, but was stopped by an invisible force.

Both Lupin and her uncle turned to her. Hermione's wand was casting a Shielding charm over the three Gryffindors. Even though she wanted Weasley dead half the time, the other half he could be mildly tolerable, and she was not going to have her uncle murder one of her classmates.

"Uncle." she said slowly. "I would rather you explain your side of the story before trying to kill someone again."

Unexpectedly, the man grinned. "You've got fire kid." he said. "I like you."

"All right then." he said. "Moony, tell them whatever you like, but make it quick. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for."

Hermione let go of the charm she was casting, but keep her wand at ready just in case.

"Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter," said Lupin, nodding. "I believed it myself — until I saw the map tonight. Because the Marauder's map never lies . . . Peter's alive. Ron's holding him, Harry."

"It started when we were still young. I've been a werewolf for as long as I can remember. I entered Hogwarts and lived out my transformations in this very shack, luckily for me, I had three great friends there with me to support me. Friends who chose to become illegal Animagi for me. One of them was your father, Harry.

"They couldn't keep me company as humans, so they kept me company as animals," said Lupin. "A werewolf is only a danger to people. They sneaked out of the castle every month under James's Invisibility Cloak.

"Hurry up, Remus," snarled Black, who was still watching Scabbers with malicious intent in his eyes.

"I'm getting there, Sirius, I'm getting there . . . well, highly exciting possibilities were open to us now that we could all transform. Soon we were leaving the Shrieking Shack and roaming the school grounds and the village by night. Sirius and James transformed into such large animals, they were able to keep a werewolf in check. I doubt whether any Hogwarts students ever found out more about the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade than we did. . . . And that's how we came to write the Marauder's Map, and sign it with our nicknames. Sirius is Padfoot. Peter is Wormtail. James was Prongs."

"And all four of you were the bane of my existence." sneered a cold voice from the wall behind Lupin. Severus Snape pulled off the Invisibility Cloak, his wand pointed directly at Lupin.

"Severus, you're making a mistake," said Lupin urgently. "You haven't heard everything — I can explain — Sirius is not here to kill Harry —"

"Two more for Azkaban tonight," said Snape, his eyes now gleaming fanatically. "I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this. . . . He was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin . . . a tame werewolf —"

BANG! Thin, snakelike cords burst from the end of Snape's wand and twisted themselves around Lupin's mouth, wrists, and ankles; he overbalanced and fell to the floor, unable to move. With a roar of rage, Black started toward Snape, but Snape pointed his wand straight between Black's eyes.

"Give me a reason," he whispered. "Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will."

"Professor Snape, lower your wand." Hermione said, in a flat voice that masked the terror she felt at the sight of her Defense Professor on the floor.

"Miss Dagworth-Granger, I'm surprised to find you, of all people, here with this filth. Come, girl, help me seize these men so we can get you safely back into Slytherin House."

"You must forget, Professor, that that's my Uncle you are pointing your wand at." she said.

"He isn't your Uncle. He's nothing but a murderer." sneered Snape. "All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black . . . pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I daresay."

Sirius' already pale face whitened even more.

" _Expelliarmus!"_ yelled Hermione as a blast of bright sparks left her wand, flying straight at the Potions professor. Snape was lifted off his feet and slammed straight into the wall. He didn't get up.

Hermione neared her head of house, and recited a chaining charm that bounded his arms to his body, just in case he regained consciousness.

"He's going to hate you now, you know." Sirius said, eyeing her handiwork while untying Lupin.

"I'm his best student, he can't possibly hate me." Hermione said snootily.

"We still don't believe you." said Harry, who watched them warily.

"Yeah." said Weasley weakly. "Are you trying to say he broke out of Azkaban just to get his hands on Scabbers? Okay, say Pettigrew could turn into a rat — there are millions of rats — how's he supposed to know which one he's after if he was locked up in Azkaban?"

They, even Lupin, looked at Sirius for an answer. He put one of his clawlike hands inside his robes and took out a crumpled piece of paper. It was the photograph of the Weasley family in the Daily Prophet, and on Weasley's shoulder stood the rat in question.

"My God," said Lupin softly, staring from Scabbers to the picture in the paper. "His front paw . . ."

"What about it?" said Ron defiantly.

"He's got a toe missing," said Black.

"Of course," Lupin breathed. "So simple . . . so brilliant . . . he cut it off himself?"

"Just before he transformed," said Black. "When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I'd betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself — and sped down into the sewer with the other rats. . . .

"The biggest bit of Pettigrew they found was his finger." whispered Hermione to no one in particular.

Weasley snorted. "Scabbers probably had a fight with another rat or something. He's been in the family for ages —"

"Yes, twelve years." said Lupin. "Even for a magical rat, his age is extraordinary. Though he doesn't seem to be at the prime of his life."

"He's terrified of the mad cat!" said Weasley, pointing at Crooks.

"That cat isn't mad." croaked Sirius. "He's the most intelligent of his kind I've ever met. He recognized Peter for what he was right away. And when he met me, he knew I was no dog. It was a while before he trusted me. . . . Finally, I managed to communicate to him what I was after, and he's been helping me. . . ."

"He led me to you." said Hermione.

"I would have continued starving, had this kitten not interfered. Then he stole the passwords to Gryffindor Tower —"

"I was given a week's detention for that!" exclaimed Neville, who, faced in front of an alleged madman, still seemed to find the courage to complain.

"Sorry about that." said the man. "Anyway, Peter got wind of what was going on and ran for it. This cat — Crookshanks, did you call him? — told me Peter had left blood on the sheets. . . . I supposed he bit himself. . . . Well, faking his own death had worked once. . . ."

"And why did he fake his death?" Potter said furiously. "Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents!"

"Potter, shut up." groaned Hermione.

"No! I should have let Snape take him!" growled the boy.

"Harry, don't you see?" Lupin said hurriedly. "All this time we've thought Sirius betrayed your parents, and Peter tracked him down — but it was the other way around, don't you see? Peter betrayed your mother and father — Sirius tracked Peter down —"

"HE WAS THEIR SECRET KEEPER!" Potter yelled. "HE'S LYING!"

"Harry . . . I as good as killed them," Sirius croaked. "I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me. . . . The night they died, I'd went to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he'd gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn't feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents' house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies . . . I realized what Peter must've done . . . what I'd done. . . ."

"There is one certain way to determine the truth." said Lupin decisively. "Ron, give me that rat."

"What are you going to do with him if I give him to you?" Weasley asked Lupin tensely.

"Force him to show himself," said Lupin. "If he really is a rat, it won't hurt him."

Weasley hesitated for a moment, but held out Scabbers to Lupin, who took the struggling rat.

"Ready, Sirius?" he said. The other man had retrieved Snape's wand from the bed, pointing it at Scabbers. At the count of three, the room was engulfed in a blue-white light, and for a moment, Scabbers froze in mid-air, before he began to twist madly.

They watched as Scabbers transformed before their eyes into a very short man with thin colorless hair, watery eyes, a pointed nose and a finger missing from his person.

Peter Pettigrew.


	22. Chapter 22 : Ironie du Sort

**Chapter 22 : Ironie du Sort**

Hermione didn't know how to react to the man in front of them. Somehow, maybe she was imagining it, but his features screamed that he was not to be trusted. Pettigrew's eyes darted to the door and back again.

"Hello, Peter." said Lupin pleasantly, as if the man hadn't caused the deaths of his best friends. "Long time no see."

She watched, fixated as Sirius's wand arm rose, only to be seized by her professor, who gave him a warning look.

"Remus," gasped Pettigrew, "you can't possibly believe him? He tried to kill me, Remus …"

"So we've heard." said Lupin. "I'd like to clear up a few tiny details with you, Peter —"

"He's come to try and kill me again!" squeaked the man, pointing at her uncle. "He's got dark powers the rest of us can only dream of! How else did he get out of there? I suppose He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named taught him a few tricks!"

"Old Snake-face, teach me tricks?" Sirius barked in amusement, although his eyes looked terrifyingly empty.

"I must admit, Peter, I don't understand why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat," said Lupin.

"Innocent, but scared!" squealed Pettigrew. "If the Dark Lord's supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban — the spy, Sirius Black!"

"How dare you," he growled, sounding suddenly like th dog he had been. "I, a spy for Voldemort?

Hermione saw Pettigrew flinch again at the name.

"Me, a spy . . . must be out of your mind . . . never . . . don't know how you can accuse me —"

"I was the one who suggested that Lily and James make you their Secret Keeper." hissed Sirius. "I thought it was a perfect plan, Voldemort would never think that they'd use you — so weak and talentless. You must have been bloody proud of yourself, offering up your best friends' heads to your beloved master."

"When I saw you in the Prophet, I knew I had to do something." said Sirius. "I couldn't let you anywhere near James' son, so I slipped out of Azkaban as a dog. Dementors couldn't see me unless I was in human form. I swam back to land as Padfoot, and ran to Hogwarts with all the strength I had left…"

Sirius looked straight at Harry with empty black eyes. "Believe me," he croaked. "Believe me, Harry. I never betrayed your parents. I would have died before letting anything happen to them."

Hermione saw Potter nod almost imperceptibly, but it was a nod nonetheless. Pettigrew saw it too.

"No!" the small man yelled, falling to his knees. He began groveling, at first to Sirius who kicked him away harshly, then to Lupin who merely glared at the man, then to Weasley, who looked at him with utmost revulsion, he went to Neville, who had a look of horror etched into his face, then, finally, he approached Potter.

"Harry … Harry .. please … "

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY?" roared Sirius. "HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?"

"Harry," whispered Pettigrew, shuffling toward him, hands outstretched. "Harry, James wouldn't have wanted me killed. . . . James would have understood, Harry . . ."

Both Lupin and Sirius strode forward, seizing Pettigrew by the shoulders and throwing him to the floor.

"Do you deny selling Lily and James to Voldemort?" asked Sirius. "Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord . . . you have no idea . . . he has weapons you can't imagine. . . . I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James."

"YOU WERE THE SPY!" her uncle bellowed, and it was as if the shack shook. "YOU PASSED INFORMATION TO HIM ABOUT THE ORDER! WE TRUSTED YOU!"

"You don't understand!" wailed Pettigrew. "He would have had me killed!"

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!" Sirius roared. "DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS! WE WOULD HAVE DONE IT FOR YOU!"

Sirius and Lupin stood, wands raised.

"You should have realized," said Lupin. "if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would."

Hermione was unable to turn away, it was as if her head was unable to move.

"NO!" Potter yelled, drawing their attention to him. "Don't kill him. I know he killed my parents, but he can go to Azkaban, don't kill him."

"Harry —" said Lupin.

"You shouldn't have his blood on your hands, Professor." Potter said solemnly.

"Harry!" Pettigrew gasped, flinging himself forward, to Potter's feet. "Thank you … thank you …"

"Get off me." Potter spat vehemently. "I'm not doing this for you. My father would not have wanted them to become killers just for you. He can go to Azkaban, if anyone deserves that place, he does."

Hermione knew that she should not smirk at the situation, but Potter just kept surprising her.

"Very well," nodded Lupin. "Stand aside, Harry."

Potter hesitated.

"I'm just going to tie him up, I swear."

The boy stepped out of the way, and thin cords shot from Lupin's wand, and the next moment, Pettigrew was squirming on the floor, bound and gagged.

"What if he transforms?" asked Hermione, looking at the ropes warily.

"Then we kill him." growled Sirius.

"Right," said Lupin, stepping aside. "Ron, I don't have the skill of Madam Pomfrey when it comes to broken bones, so I think it's best if we just strap your leg up so we can get you to her."

The professor hurried over to Weasley, who was holding onto Neville's hand like it was a lifeline, and muttered _"Ferula."_ Bandages spun up Weasley's leg, strapping it tightly to a splint. Hermione looked on, taking note of the spell while the redhead thanked Lupin.

"What about Professor Snape?" squeaked Neville, who grew pale at the image of their Potions Master, bound and unconscious.

"There's nothing seriously wrong with him, but I think it would be better if he was unbound. Severus can be a handful when he isn't tied up. It's best not to aggravate him." said Lupin.

"Rendering him unconscious and sending him flying into a wall won't aggravate him?" muttered Hermione under her breath as the group began their exit from the Shrieking Shack. Weasley and Lupin had their feet chained to Pettigrew's, in case the rat decided to escape, and Professor Snape was floating along in front of them. Sirius and Potter were at the rear of the group, trailing behind her and talking in whispered voices.

"Do you know what this means Harry?" Sirius asked. "Turning Pettigrew in?"

"You're free." said Potter.

"Yes, but also — I don't know if anyone told you this, but … I'm your godfather."

"I knew that." said Potter

"Well, your parents appointed me as your guardian if anything ever happened to them …" trailed Sirius. Hermione grinned slightly at hearing the caution in her uncle's voice.

"I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with you aunt and uncle, but think about it. If you wanted a different home … once my name's cleared …"

"What — live with you?" said Potter, and she could almost hear the disbelief as he said it.

"I thought you wouldn't want to." Sirius added quickly, seeming to mistake the excitement in Potter's voice for something else.

"Are you insane?" croaked Potter. "Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! When can I move in? have you got a house?"

"You want to? You mean it?"

"Yeah, I mean it!" exclaimed Potter.

"Well, I'll have to look around for a flat, I have some gold left from Uncle Alphard, I'm sure it can cover a year's rent —"

"Ehem." Hermione interrupted, pausing in her tracks to turn and face the two. She was startled to see her Uncle beaming, and could almost make out the dashing young man he had been in her grandfather's pictures. "Uncle, may I say something?"

"Grandfather has been working for years about your reinstatement into House Black." she went on, not waiting for Sirius' reply. "If you choose to accept your title once more, you will become our family's heir, and therefore, inherit all assets entitled."

"Sirius?" Potter interrupted. "What's she talking about?"

"She's saying that if I return to House Black I can have my birthright back, and everything else. My old house, my inheritance, everything." Sirius said, although his words held no emotion whatsoever.

"I refuse." he said, "I made the right decision in leaving that family when I did. I want nothing to do with it."

"Uncle, I knew you'd say that." she said coaxingly. "But grandpere has worked his hardest to change the Black name, it no longer carries the darkness you remember it bearing."

"Yeah, right." Potter snorted. "You're an evil little pureblood just like Malfoy, no matter how much you pretend, you're still a snake in sheep's clothing."

"I'm a snake who's saved your arse more times than you'd care to admit, Potter. I may be Slytherin, but I'm no Dark Witch." she sneered.

"Enough, both of you." said Sirius, "Hermione, I appreciate the offer, but I cut ties with everyone from the past, I don't think your mother would ever forgive me for what Idid."

"She may not, but I do, grandfather too." Hermione said. "He's been trying to clear your name for years."

"My return would mean taking your title away from you, you know."

"I could care less about that. My inheritance from my father is more than enough." she pushed.

"Hermione, no." said Sirius.

"At least talk to grandfather about it, Uncle, please." she pleaded, looking straight into his hollow looking eyes.

"Fine. When everything is cleared, I'll talk to Uncle."

"Thank —"

Suddenly, a cloud shifted, they were bathed in moonlight. Hermione looked up at the sky, and to her horror, found the full moon gazing back at her.

"Oh, no" she said, just as Lupin went rigid, then his limbs began shaking. "He didn't take his potion! He isn't safe! He's going to turn!"

"Run." Sirius whispered. "Run. Now!"

Hermione tried grabbing Potter, but he wouldn't move. Instead he lunged for Weasley, who was still chained to Pettigrew and Lupin. Sirius caught him before he could, throwing him into Hermione.

"Leave it to me! Run!" he shouted.

There was a terrible snarling noise, along with the snapping of Lupin's bones. His head was lengthening, so was his body. Hair was sprouting on his face and hands, yellow eyes glared at them menacingly. Sirius shifted, and Snuffles bounded forward, keeping the werewolf's attention away from the rest of them.

Pettigrew lunged for Lupin's wand, and before any of them could do anything, he transformed, and went scurrying into the bushes, the werewolf following in pursuit. Hermione pointed an unlocking charm at Weasley's manacles, and helping him to his feet.

"Sirius!" shouted Potter. "He's gone! Pettigrew transformed!"

At Harry's words, Sirius scrambled up, and in an instant, the sound of his paws faded into silence as he bounded his way across the grounds.

"Potter, we need to get him inside, now." she said. "Hold him up will you?"

Potter took his best friend while she cast a quick _"Wingardium Leviosa."_. Before they could move however, from beyond the range of their vision, they heard a yelping, a whining: a dog in pain. . . .

"Sirius," whispered Potter, staring into the darkness.

Power set off into a run, leaving her with a floating Weasel. "Fuck me." she muttered, before lowering the redhead behind a pile of bushes and running after the other boy. They pelted toward the sound, and she could feel the cold emptiness in the air before she could see the floating figures.

The yelping stopped abruptly. As they reached the lakeshore, they saw why — Sirius had turned back into a man. He was crouched on all fours, his hands over his head.

" _Nooo_ ," he moaned. " _Noooo . . . please. . . ._ "

And then Potter finally saw them. Dementors, at least a hundred of them, gliding in a black mass around the lake toward them.

"Think of something happy!" Potter whispered urgently, " _Expecto patronum! Expecto patronum!"_

Hermione swung her wand, frantically, seeing that Potter hadn't yet mastered the spell, and bellowed as loud as she could muster, " _Expecto Patronum!"_

The silver mist erupted from her wand, and her brown fox bounded out, circling her uncle's body protectively, snapping at the demeanors furiously. From the corner of her eye, she saw Potter slump against the tree behind them, just as the demeanors began to dissipate.

* * *

Hermione rushed to her uncle's side as soon as the last of the cloaked monsters had vanished. She took in his pallid face, and lifeless form and held her breath, listening for any sign of life — and then — the slight rise of his chest. She breathed a sigh of relief, and cast a levitating charm on him, bringing him to where Potter was lying in a dead faint.

She leaned against the tree in exhaustion, breathing heavily from overexertion.

 _"Well done, Miss Dagworth-Granger."_ a voice sad from somewhere in the woods.

She stiffened, brandishing her wand to where the voice seemed to come from. "Who's there?"

"Settle down, Hermione, it's only me."

From the trees, came out the Headmaster, in his periwinkle robes, his wand at his side.

"Thank Merlin." she sighed. "Headmaster, how did you —"

"Professor Snape reached me ten minutes ago screaming. It isn't very often that Severus loses his composure, so I assumed that something was terribly wrong, and by the looks of things, I was right." Dumbledore gestured to the two unconscious bodies at her feet.

"Headmaster, Sirius Black isn't who you think he is —" she began saying.

"I believe you, Miss Dagworth-Granger, but as we speak, the Minister of Magic is on his way to investigate what caused this commotion, and I think it's best if we make for the safety of Hogwarts."

"Ron Weasley —"

"Has already been found and is being attended to. Now, Miss Dagworth-Granger, if you may, I am in need of your assistance." Dumbledore said, eyes sparkling as he silently cast a levitating spell on Sirius.

* * *

A/N

I apologize for not posting in a while, it's been hell for me lately. I also know this wasn't the best update either, so forgive me. Hope you guys aren't disappointed with Hermione being the unlikely savior this time. Can you guys predict what's going/not going to happen?

Also, I'm adding a few things to previous chapters, just a tiny bit. Her pre-Hogwarts education has been added, besides daily academic lessons, she now has magic lessons with her grandfather, stuff like that, just to build more on why she's more advanced in magic than her peers.


	23. Chapter 23 : Antebellum

**Chapter 23 : Antebellum**

"Sirius!" Potter gasped, sitting up abruptly from the infirmary bed. He scrambled to find his glasses, which he found on the nightstand next to the bed, along with his wand, not noticing the other figure in the room.

"Calm down, Potter." said Hermione, sounding as if she was amused by the sight of the Chosen One out of his wits.

"Where's Sirius? And Ron? And Professor Lupin? And Neville?" the boy gasped.

"Breathe, Potter." she chided. "Uncle Sirius is currently in the Headmaster's office, along with the Minister of Magic and my grandfather. Your friends are fine, Weasley's still knocked out though, he broke his leg. And Professor Lupin is still roaming the grounds somewhere, he'll turn up once the sun rises."

He stared at her in bewilderment, wondering how she could be so calm through everything. "What happened?" he asked.

"Well, after you fainted, Dumbledore came and —"

"Wait." Potter interrupted, causing Hermione to huff in indignation, "You produced a Patronus."

"Yes, you can thank me for saving your life later." she said. "Where was I?"

"How?"

"You seem to forget, Potter, that I was the one who told you of its existence in the first place." Hermione said, smirking. "Anyway, Dumbledore came and we took you to the castle, and Minister Fudge came and took Uncle to have the dementors kiss him —"

"What!?" exclaimed Potter.

"Stop interrupting me, Potter." she snapped, "Then I stepped in, told him Uncle was innocent, of course he didn't believe me, so I called my grandfather to clear everything up, and now they're processing Uncle Sirius' release."

"Just like that?" said Potter in disbelief.

"Being the wealthiest man in Wizarding Britain does have its benefits. Money is power and all that." she said, with a shrug.

"So Sirius is free?" he asked.

"Yes. He's cleared of all charges once you and I give our statements." she nodded.

"Statements?"

"Oh, right. I'm supposed to take you to the Headmaster now." she said, "Come on then, the sooner the better."

Quickly, he jumped off the bed, wincing as a sharp pain stabbed the back of his head.

"Madam Pince said not to make any sudden movements, you might get a bit of a headache." Hermione said offhandedly, as she walked ahead of him, smiling when she heard Potter grumble.

"How are you so calm?" he asked a little while after.

"Well, I'm no longer potential werewolf prey, nor am I inside a dilapidated shack, my long lost Uncle has returned, and everyone's still alive. Why shouldn't I be calm?"

"Pettigrew got away." Potter said darkly.

"Yes, that's an issue, but he's the new Sirius Black, the Ministry will be looking all over for him after this."

"I'm uneasy about him running around free."

"I am too, honestly, but there's nothing we can do at the moment." she said, as the finally came to a halt at the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the Headmaster's tower.

"Cockroach Clusters." Hermione said, and the gargoyle slid aside, revealing the spiral staircase behind it.

Hermione lifted the brass knocker on the door leading to the office, and the door opened. Inside were four men. Headmaster Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, eyes shining at the two of them cheerily, Minister Fudge looked weary, almost as if he was tired of dealing with everything, her grandfather was staring intently at the boy next to her, taking up the image of the Boy Who Lived, and in the middle of it all was Sirius, who, although still looked like he almost had the life sucked out of him, was smiling calmly as he sat.

"There you two are." said Dumbledore, "Are you ready?"

"Ready for what?" asked Potter.

Hermione shot an apologetic look to the headmaster, "Sorry, sir, I didn't get a chance to explain everything to him."

"That's alright, child. Mister Potter, we shall be taking your statements now." Dumbledore said, "Step forward, child, and allow Minister Fudge to do the honors."

"He's just going to take your memory of tonight as evidence, Potter, don't worry." she said, watching the boy take a hesitant step forward.

Potter approached the group of men, and the Minister drew out the memory quickly, tapping the boy's temple, bringing out a small silvery wisp into a vial.

"Thank you, Mister Potter." said the Minister.

"It's your turn, Miss Dagworth-Granger." Dumbledore said.

Hermione stepped forward immediately, wanting to be done with everything. As soon as the Minister took the memory away, she felt as if a weight had been taken off her shoulders.

"Thank you, my dear." Minister Fudge said. She did not miss the saccharine smile he sent her way, and the quick glance he sent to her grandfather's direction. She resisted the urge to laugh, this man was a politician through and through.

"I daresay this is enough information." the man said, pocketing the two memories. "Mr Black, the charges against you have been dropped, on the grounds of false accusation."

"Thank you, Minister." said Sirius in relief.

"Well, my job here is done." said the man, "Honestly, here I thought taking care of that hippogriff was a bother." he chuckled.

Hermione's heart clenched at being reminded that Buckbeak had been executed earlier in the day, and it took all that she could not to shout at the man for laughing.

"I think I'll take my leave now. With everything that's happened, the Ministry has a busy time ahead of them."

The door closed behind him, and the tension in the room lessened a great deal with his absence.

"Headmaster, I would like to express my deepest gratitude for tonight." Alphard began saying.

"No need, Alphard, I did nothing to earn your thanks." Dumbledore said, waving him off. "I think your granddaughter is the one who deserves it the most. I will give you some privacy, it's not everyday a reunion such as this happens."

The headmaster walked away with a swish of periwinkle robes, leaving the group of four alone. Hermione was immediately engulfed in a warm embrace.

"You did well, Hermione." said Alphard Black, the pride for his granddaughter evident in his voice. "I don't know how on Earth you learned to produce a corporeal Patronus, but you did well."

"I taught myself." she mumbled against his robes.

The old man chuckled, releasing her. "I don't know when you're going to stop surprising me, child."

"I guess I owe you my thanks." said Sirius, who came to stand next to her grandfather.

"It was nothing, really." Hermione said, smirking. "It's good to have you back, Uncle."

"Good to be back, niece."

She smiled, before gesturing to Potter, who was looking on at the family's exchange awkwardly. Sirius grinned, before walking towards him.

"Hermione," Alphard said, bringing her attention to him. The warm look he had on earlier was now replace with a stern glare. "What you did tonight was reckless, and probably the most idiotic thing you have ever done in your life."

She opened her mouth to complain, but was silenced with a look from the man.

"But it was also the bravest, most courageous thing you have ever done, too." her grandfather said. "I'm glad you aren't hurt, my dear."

"I'm glad too, grandfather." she said.

* * *

They had been kicked out of the office the moment Dumbledore returned. Hermione and Potter found themselves gazing out of one of the windows from the Astronomy Tower, both of them not quite ready to go to bed.

"You can do it too, you know." she said, after neither of them had said anything for a while.

"Do what?" Potter asked, confused.

"The Patronus Charm." she said. "I know you've been thinking about it all night."

Potter sighed, "If you hadn't been there, Sirius would have died."

Hermione stayed quiet, letting the sound of the breeze fill the silence.

"Try it now." she said.

"Now?" Potter asked incredulously.

"Got anything better to do?" she asked, brow raised.

The boy took out his wand hesitantly. _"Expecto Patronum!"_

A silver shadow escaped from his wand before disappearing immediately in the wind.

"That's no good, Potter. What are you thinking of?" she asked.

"The time we one the House Cup." he admitted.

"No, it has to be something stronger, happier." she pushed, "Imagine living with Sirius after this, imagine how it'll be like."

She watched as he closed his eyes, trying to grasp the idea of it, and she watched as he hung his wand back, yelling " _EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_

A rapid stream of silver shot out, and the sky was lit by the beautiful apparition in front of them, a fully grown stag was galloping across the night sky, fighting against the breeze.

She smiled at the sight, silently cursing the boy for having a prettier looking Patronus than she had.

"Thanks, Hermione." said Potter.

"This doesn't make us friends, Potter." she said.

"Course not." he replied, as the stag faded away.

* * *

"She's strong, Alphard." said Dumbledore, calmly, to the irate Lord Black in front of him.

"Yes, I know, but I don't want her caught up in all of your plans, Albus." said the man.

"Albus, I beg you to see reason. She could be a great weapon against him when the time comes."

"He could kill her, Albus!" argued Alphard.

"Not if he didn't know where her true loyalties lie."

"He's the strongest Legilemens in recorded history! For Merlin's sake, Albus, listen to yourself!" cried Alphard.

"She could be taught. Severus and I are both adept at Occlumency, it could work." said Dumbledore.

"You're telling us you want to offer her up to that madman on a silver platter? Just so she can spy for you?" Sirius said coldly, eyes burning with rage.

"Yes." the headmaster said.

"You already have a spy!" roared Sirius. "Snivellus is already your pet, why not use him?"

"Severus has many enemies within the Death Eaters. He will never be fully trusted, even if he manages to infiltrate the ranks when He rises again." said Dumbledore.

"She's just a child!" said Alphard.

"And so is Harry." said Dumbledore.

"I WILL NOT LET HERMIONE BE YOUR PAWN." yelled Sirius, "Talented or not, you can't just throw her into his lap and tell her to fend for herself!"

"Sirius, Alphard, think of how many lives she could save by helping us." Dumbledore said. "She is strong enough, I can feel it. She could help Harry —"

"TO HELL WITH THAT!" shouted Alphard, his restraint lost, "I HAVE LOST TOO MUCH TO THE DARK LORD I WILL NOT LOSE MY GRANDDAUGHTER AS WELL!"

"Grandpapa?" came a soft, scared voice from the other end of the room. The three men snapped their heads to the sound, none of them had heard the door open amidst the shouting.

Hermione stood in the doorway, looking lost as she took in the sight of her red-faced grandfather and uncle. "I just came up to tell you that Potter and I are going to bed, I'm sorry I interrupted —"

"Hermione, what did you hear?" Alphard said in resignation.

"I - I heard the h-headmaster saying he wants me to help Harry." she said, her voice wavering.

"Hermione, tell Harry to go on without you and come right back up." said Sirius, his face serious.

She nodded and quickly scampered down the stairs. In a moment, she was back, cheeks flushed from running.

"Come here, child." said Alphard, looking pale. He sent a furious look at Dumbledore, and nodded.

"Hermione," Dumbledore started. "We were discussing how you could be of help in the defeat of Voldemort —"

"So he really is alive?" she butted in.

"I strongly believe he is." said Dumbledore, his eyes lacking the twinkle they usually contained.

"I'll do it." she said.

"Hermione!" exclaimed Alphard and Sirius, at her hasty reply.

"Hermione, you don't understand." Sirius said.

"I do." she said, straight faced. "I want to help.

"Hermione, listen to us." Alphard said.

"Grandfather," she said, looking straight into the man's troubled grey eyes, "there's something i haven't told you."


	24. Chapter 24 : La Vigueur

**Chapter 24 : La Vigueur**

She watched as her grandfather's face grew increasingly more pale as she went on with her story, Dumbledore was clasping his hands together, deep in thought as he listened on, and Sirius seemed to age more than he had in Azkaban with the dementors.

"I heard them talking the night of the Winter Gala. There were three of them, Lord Malfoy, Lord Nott, and another man I did not recognize. They kept saying that You-Know-Who was getting stronger, that he would return for Potter. Malfoy and Nott both pledged Draco and Theo's allegiance that night." her voice trembled over her friends' names as she said them. Alphard placed a hand over hers, trying to comfort her.

"And then, when Draco and I went into the Forbidden Forest for detention with Potter, Longbottom, and Weasley in our first year. We saw him, I know it was him. H-he was weak, barely even there, like he was a ghost of his former self, but he was alive. I could feel his presence — I felt dirty, as if my magic was being tainted just by being near him." Hermione shuddered, remembering the horrible way the thing approached Potter that night.

"Draco begged me not to tell anyone, he said if his father found out it wouldn't be good." she turned to her grandfather and uncle with a look of strong resolve. "I have to help them, Draco and Theo, I don't care much about the rest of the world, but I have to help them. They're my friends."

"Hermione, dearest," Alphard pleaded, "it would mean training yourself to become a spy. I don't think you understand how dangerous it will be for you."

"I understand." Hermione said stubbornly.

"No, you don't, child." said Sirius coldly. She turned to face her uncle, who was looking at her with an empty look in his eyes. "You would have to _become_ one of them. He'll Mark you as his own and have you follow his every command."

"I can do it." said Hermione.

Sirius silenced her with a single haunted look. "War is a terrible thing, Hermione." he said. "It's entirely different when you're in it. The fear doesn't leave you, knowing that your next breath may be your last, or somebody else's. Being under You-Know-Who's control will make it a hundred times worse. He's a monster."

Hermione shuddered at the vehemence in her uncle's voice.

"He kills for the sake of killing, and will not hesitate to have you kill for him. He will make a murderer out of you, _a Death Eater,_ command you to hurt others in his name, _crucio_ them _imperio_ them. Voldemort does not care what it takes to get what he wants, as long as he gets it. And if you don't follow through with his orders, he will torture you too, and then kill you if he sees it a fit punishment."

She had lost her ability to speak the moment he said _crucio_. She turned to her grandfather and Dumbledore, who both looked solemn, neither denying what Sirius had said.

"All we want is to protect you, Hermione." her grandfather said. Gathering all her courage, she stalled down the fear bubbling in her chest, looking her grandfather straight in the eye.

"Then who's going to protect them?" she asked, "Draco and Theo are both already caught up in their father's plans. They have no one. I can't keep them from becoming Death Eaters, but I become one myself, I can keep anything bad from happening to them."

"You're only thirteen, Hermione." Sirius said.

"How old were you, Uncle, when you began fighting?" she argued, "The Dark Lord still hasn't regained his strength, if I started training now, it won't matter how young I am."

"Hermione, you don't need to do this." said Alphard.

"Yes, I do."

"Hermione, you could get killed." said Sirius.

"Draco and Theo could, too." she said, her voice filling with emotion, "I could change that."

"Hermione —"

"You've been awfully quiet, Headmaster." she said abruptly, gazing at the grey haired old man sitting in silence.

"The choice is yours, Miss Dagworth-Granger." he said simply.

"I've already said I'll do it." she said, paying no mind to her grandfather's hand gripping her tiny wrist, as if trying to hold her back.

"Your uncle and grandfather have pointed out the consequences."

"I'll train hard enough to avoid anything happening to me." she said.

"You may tell no one of this." Dumbledore said, waiting for her to nod. "Not your parents, or your friends, not even Harry himself. Only the people in this room, and your mentor may possess the knowledge of this plan."

"Yes, sir." she finally said, then turned to her grandfather and uncle. "I'm sorry, but I have a part to play in this war. I understand that you're scared, I am too, but I need to do this if it would do any help to the resistance."

Sirius remained silent, her grandfather was glaring at Dumbledore with fury in his eyes. "If anything happens to my granddaughter, Albus, you will have me to answer to."

The headmaster gave a small nod to the other man before facing the young girl. "We will speak more of this in the days to come, Hermione, but it would be best for you to get some rest for the meantime."

"Yes, Headmaster." she said, stepping back. "Goodnight, grandfather, uncle."

"I'll escort you back to your common rooms." said Sirius abruptly, standing up as she turned to leave. She studied the man curiously as he opened the doors for her to pass. Her uncle looked nothing like how a thirty four year old wizard should. His years in Azkaban had aged him drastically. Gone was the bright look in his eyes that she had seen in the photos, the man walking beside her held no resemblance to the image her grandfather had painted for her all these years.

"My brother was a Death Eater." Sirius said suddenly.

"Grandfather told me about him." said Hermione, looking forward.

"His name was Regulus. He was obsessed with Voldemort, like the rest of my blasted family. Gave himself up when he was sixteen to serve the maniac, and died a few years later, no one knows how."

Hermione knew all these things, her grandfather had reluctantly told her about her other uncle when she had asked him to many years ago, but she held back from telling Sirius this.

"Reg was a good kid." admitted Sirius, "Our mum ruined him after I ran away, drilled into his head that I was evil and Voldy was the next Merlin. When I refused to take the Dark Mark, my parents almost killed me. They left me to bleed out on my bedroom floor. Reg broke the door down and sent me to the Potters."

They rounded a corner, and the moonlight came streaming down on them from one of the open windows. Hermione thought she saw a faint glisten of tears in her uncle's eyes.

"I couldn't save him. He refused to meet me, refused to listen to reason. Before I knew it, he was taking orders from a deranged man and torturing innocent people. We met in battle, just once, when Dumbledore sent me and a few others to save a family of muggles from a Death Eater raid. I couldn't curse him. How could I? But Reg threw curse after curse, I couldn't recognize him any more. It was as if the Dark Lord had taken over him."

Hermione laid a hand on top of her uncle's, her eyes filled with tears. "I won't be like Uncle Regulus." she promised, "I won't let the Dark Lord break me."

Sirius smiled at her painfully. This little girl in front of him was trying her hardest to be strong for the sake of her friends and family, hardly knowing what was in store for her. "I lost everyone in the war. Remus and I are the only ones left."

"You have me now." said Hermione, "Grandfather too, and Potter."

"I won't let those bastards win this time." Sirius vowed.

"Neither will I, Uncle." she said.

* * *

She woke up to Daphne shaking her incessantly, calling out her name.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. One quick look at the clock told her it was eight in the morning, only four hours since she had gone to bed. Her friend had her arms on her hips impatiently, glaring at her with deep blue eyes.

"You're a mess." she pointed out.

Hermione buried her head back into her pillow, "I don't need you telling me how horrid I look this early in the morning, Daphne."

"Get up!" Daphne said, swatting the back of her head, "It's the last Hogsmeade weekend and I plan on getting one last glimpse of Adrian before we have to leave for the summer."

"What happened to Terrence?" she queried, rubbing the spot her best friend had hit.

"Ugh, he's such a flirt. I couldn't stand him after three days." the blonde witch said, rolling her eyes. "Now get up!"

Reluctantly, Hermione obliged, quickly pulling a dress on, and slipping into a pair of shoes. Still tired from the previous night, she allowed her hair to remain down after a few curling spells.

"Why do you look so tired?" Daphne asked, inspecting her friend's face.

"I had a nightmare." she said, the lie slipping off her tongue easily.

The two girls met up with the rest of their friends in the common room, apparently, they had been waiting to all go to the town together. Seeing Draco and Theo brought her back to the night before, filling her anew with anxiety. She wondered when Dumbledore would call on her. Maybe since the year was over, he'd wait until class began again? But that would be a waste of time.

"Hermione?" said Blaise, waving a hand over her face.

She slapped it away, feigning annoyance, "What?"

"I was just asking if you were alright with going to the Three Broomsticks for a drink?" the boy said, as the rest of their group looked on expectantly.

"Oh, yes, of course." she said, with a smile.

Blaise smiled, offering her his arm, and the group of young Slytherins made they way, chattering happily, blissfully unaware of the world outside, and what waited for them.

Hermione moved the thoughts to the back of her mind, deciding that she would worry when the time came. Now, she thought, was a time for laughing. She predicted that there wouldn't be much time for that in the future.

* * *

In the days nearing the end of term, the castle became abuzz with conversation. One reason being that Professor Lupin had resigned, forced to step down due to the fact that news of his _disposition_ had slipped out, causing an uproar among the parents. Another reason was the news of Sirius Black's release from prison. Two days after the incident, the Minister of Magic gave a public statement, announcing the man's innocence, and that all charges against him had been dropped. The noise that filled the halls drove her mildly mad, and, even though exams were finished, she chose to burrow in her favorite corner of the library, buried in a book, or gazing out the window.

People were now speculating where Black could have gone, although Hermione knew exactly where he was. She had been keeping a detailed correspondence with her uncle, writing almost daily. Sirius had allowed her grandfather to bring him back to Paris, and although her mother was irked with his presence, she had been ordered by Alphard to deal with the situation. Hermione's uncle, although living as a Black once again, still outright refused to be named as the heir to the Black fortune, stubbornly saying that he didn't care for any of it.

It seemed that he all he wanted was to live to with Harry — this request was refused immediately, although not by Potter. Dumbledore had, once again, stepped in spouting something about protection and Potter needing to be with the Dursleys for a certain amount of time. None of it made sense to Hermione, really, though she was relieved that she wasn't going to be sharing a home with the chosen one any time soon.

Something moved in the corner of her eye, and she found Potter perusing one of the shelves. The sight surprised her, he was not a normal occurrence in this quiet haven she had claimed. The boy felt her gaze on him, turning to meet her eyes, acknowledging her with a nod. The two had not spoken since that night, neither really knowing what to say, or if there was anything to be said. Their interactions were limited to nods and small waves, which she found relieving. A sudden friendship with the Boy Who Lived would draw attention to her from her friends, and was exactly the opposite of what she was supposed to be doing.

Her gaze went back to the window, observing the students outside, lounging by the Black Lake, skipping stones and laughing. She reached into her blouse, but her hand came up empty, and she remembered that she had returned the Time Turner earlier that day, no longer finding a need for it, having dropped Divination.

A shadow suddenly appeared, covering her eyes. Outside was a fluttering envelope, seeming to float as if it had wings. Hermione quickly opened the window, snatching it out of the air. Her name was inked on the back of it in spidery gold handwriting.

 _Miss Dagworth-Granger,_

 _I seem to have prepared a cup too much tea for myself this afternoon. Would you care for some? I find Earl Grey tea fits best with Treacle Tart, don't you?"_

The letter was unsigned, but she had no doubt in her mind who it was from. She took a moment to wonder whether the headmaster was truly mad, before making her way to his office.

As the doors to the office opened, she wondered whether she held the record for the most times to visit the Headmaster's office as a student, brushing the thought aside when she noticed that the Headmaster was not alone. In the seat in front of him was Professor Snape, looking as gloomy as ever, not even acknowledging her presence.

"Ah, I see my letter found you, Miss Dagworth-Granger." Dumbledore said, gesturing to the other empty seat to his right.

"Good afternoon, Headmaster, Professor." she said, sitting down.

"I believe you know why you're here, my dear." said the man.

"Yes, sir," she said, "although I don't know why Professor Snape is."

"Ah, yes," said Dumbledore, "Severus has so kindly agreed to the task of being your mentor for your _advanced Potions classes_."

To say she was not surprised would have been a lie. Hermione was still embarrassed for rendering the man unconscious. "If that's true, then, er," she began, "Professor Snape, I would like to apologize for —"

The man silenced her with a wave of his hand, "What you did was the only reason why agreed to this in the first place." the said in a tone that seemed as if he was highly annoyed with the whole thing.

Hermione chose not to ask what he meant.

"Come September, Professor Snape will be teaching you Occlumency, as well as defensive and offensive spells, and everything else needed. It would not seem out of the ordinary to see him after classes, you are after all, well ahead of your class in terms of academics." said Dumbledore.

"September, sir?" she asked, "What about the summer?"

"Over the breaks, your uncle and grandfather have requested that they teach you." the headmaster said with a smile.

Hermione nodded in understanding.

"Be reminded that you are to tell no one. Not even your parents."

"Yes, sir." said Hermione, silently wondering how they were going to sneak around her mother.

"That is all for today, Miss Granger." said Dumbledore, "You may take your leave."

"Thank you, Headmaster, Professor." she left with a bow, her mind racing, once again occupied entirely with anxious thinking.


	25. Chapter 25 : Las Tête de Mort

**Chapter 25 : Las Tête de Mort**

 _"What, in Merlin's good name, is that?!"_ exclaimed Daphne, staring at the girl who had opened the door for her. The two young witches were facing each other for the first time in two months, and Daphne Greengrass was at a loss for words at the sight of her bestfriend, who had somehow changed immensely since she last saw her.

Hermione had always been pretty, but now, she looked as if puberty had been extra generous with her. She was now as tall as Daphne, and as slim, too. The loss of all her baby fat had paved way to a slim figure, accenting the fact that she had grown more than in just height.

"What's what?" Hermione asked blankly.

 _"That!"_ The girl exclaimed again, gesturing to her friend's body. Hermione had the decency to look embarrassed.

"Er, my mother has me dieting." she explained.

"You can't get that from dieting!" Daphne said.

"Stop shouting, Daph, it's seven in the morning, you'll wake up the entire street." Hermione admonished, trying not to blush, "Come on, then, Mimi made us breakfast."

Daphne grumbled in reply, but allowed the elf that popped into existence to take her bags and lead her inside.

"That's so unfair, why couldn't I have lost half of what I weigh, too?" she complained.

"If you lost that much weight, you'd disappear into nothingness." said Hermione, walking ahead of the blonde, leading her to the courtyard, where the house elves had set a table for them. "Besides, you're gorgeous, you don't need to change anything about you."

"Hmph." pouted Daphne, glaring at the croissant on her plate.

"The bread did nothing to you, Daph." chuckled her friend. "Never mind that, how have you been?"

"Bored out of my mind without you." said the girl, "I actually finished my summer homework because it reminded me of you. I hope you've been through just as much hell as I have."

Hermione laughed, biting into a piece of toast. "I've been busy actually." she admitted, "With uncle here, the manor seems much more lively than before."

Truth be told, the manor was so much more than just lively, with everything that had been happening in the past months. Sirius had taken it upon himself to train her nonstop ever since she had arrived from Hogwarts. They practiced from dawn and into the night, building her stamina and power, not only training her magically, but physically as well. That was how she had thinned out. Sirius had created a training regimen fit for a Quidditch player, and only allowed her to stop training because it was the last few weeks before school began, and Daphne was visiting.

"Your uncle?" Daphne asked in confusion.

"Oh, right, I haven't told you yet. My uncle—"

"Mione?" a voice called from one of the trellises. The two girls turned to find Sirius Black walking up to them, looking much better than the rest of the Wizarding World remembered. Daphne had to stop her jaw from hitting the ground as the man approached.

Hermione was happy to see her uncle looking so healthy. He no longer resembled the man from the wanted posters. His hair was tied back and groomed, his cheeks no longer sallow and hollow, and his eyes regained some of the life that they had lost along the way.

"Good morning, Uncle Sirius." greeted Hermione with a smile, "May I introduce you to Daphne Greengrass?"

Sirius smiled charmingly before bowing and taking Daphne's hand in his own and pressing a kiss on top, _"Enchanté_ , _mademoiselle."_

"Uncle, you're scaring her." Hermione said, smirking.

It was true, Daphne did look quite shell shocked at the appearance of the alleged mass murderer.

"You're Sirius Black?" she said, after finally finding her voice.

"The one and only, my dear." he said, grabbing a croissant out of the breadbasket on the table. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Greengrass." He sent a sly wink her way, causing the witch to blush.

"Uncle, stop flirting with my friend." Hermione admonished, "Just because you can't find a witch your age doesn't mean you can prance around stealing the hearts of fourteen year old girls."

"I could find a woman if I wanted to," said Sirius, "but you're the only girl for me, Mione, my love."

Hermione rolled her eyes at the man. "What did you want me for?"

"Yes, right." he said, popping the last of the pastry in his mouth, "The most honorable Lady Black Dagworth-Granger has commanded me to tell you that she's taking you and Daphne _shopping_ today." He said the word shopping as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.

Hermione sighed, remembering the appointment. "I almost forgot about that."

"What is it?" asked Daphne curiously.

"Didn't you read our list of requirements this year?" asked Hermione, "We're supposed to bring dress robes."

"For what?" the girl asked, surprised.

"You haven't heard?" she asked, knowing full well that it hadn't been announced to the public yet, "Hogwarts is hosting the Triwizard Tournament this year."

"What?" said Daphne, choking on her orange juice.

"Draco wrote me about it a few days ago." she said, "We'll have to find dresses for the Yule Ball. Mother's already set an appointment with the dressmaker."

"This is where I take my leave." said Sirius, who had been observing the girls' conversation, "See you later, girls."

"Anyways, we have to leave soon, so we better get ready. Mother would want us to dress a little bit better, since she's coming along with us." said Hermione, standing up.

* * *

Daphne admired Lyra Dagworth-Granger in more ways than one. One look at her, in her flowing black robes, red high heels and dark sunglasses, and anyone would feel intimidated. She had a way of parting a crowd like the red sea,with her heels tapping on the ground prettily. Hermione had been right in saying they had to dress better, because the woman walking in front of them could make a diamond look cheap. Hermione could have been an exact replica of her mother, had it not been for the blonde hair and stormy grey eyes. They both seemed to exude an aura of power that made Daphne want to walk a little bit straighter.

"They always act like this." whispered Hermione, talking about the people who had slowed down to watch the three witches. "Mother can be such a diva sometimes." Daphne quietly noted that it was not only Hermione's mother that stole the attention.

The three made their way through Le Carre Square until they came upon a pink shop called Bellamy Haute Couture.

The ringing of a bell announced their arrival, summoning a pretty witch from somewhere inside the shop. "Good morning, ladies!" she said, leading the three to a sitting room, where they were immediately served with cups of tea."

"Bonjour, Druella." said Lyra with a sweet smile.

"Now, I hear you need dress robes?" the woman said, eyes alight.

"Yes, for both my daughter and Miss Greengrass."

The woman, Druella, faced the two girls, and latched her eyes on Daphne. "What a beauty!" she exclaimed, "And those eyes! They would look _tres magnifique_ with a dusty pink! And Lady Hermione, how much you've grown."

"Yes, well, I trust you to create whatever it is they wish, Druella." said Lyra.

"Of course, madam!" said the woman, conjuring a sketchpad and a pencil. "Who would like to go first?"

"You go, Daph." said Hermione with a smile.

"Oh, well, I think what you said, dusty pink, is a good place to start." she said. "I was thinking that maybe it could be Grecian? I adore those styles that have long flowing skirts."

Druella grinned, agreeing that it would be a brilliant design for the girl, already beginning to sketch rapidly. When the dressmaker had finished, she handed the drawing to Daphne, observing the girl's reaction. It was beautiful, exactly what had Daphne imagined. The top was asymmetrical, the leaving one shoulder bare, and the waist was kept tight by a gold lace belt. From there, the skirt flowed softly in a wave of fabric. She looked up from the drawing with wide eyes. "I love it."

A tinkling laugh came from Lyra out of nowhere, "That's Druella for you. She's one of the best dressmakers in Paris."

"My Lady, you flatter me." the seamstress said. "Now, my dear, please stand so I can take your measurements."

As a magical tape measure took the numbers down, Druella turned to Hermione, who seemed to be a bit bored with everything. "Lady Hermione?" Druella said.

"Oh," she said, rousing from her stupor, " _pardonne-moi._ I don't really know what I want."

Lyra tutted, admonishing her daughter's ignorance, "At least give her a color, Mira."

"Blue?" Hermione said, unsure.

Druella smiled encouragingly, bringing out swatches of blue fabrics to choose from, showing them to the young girl. Hermione's eyes scanned through the selection before landing on dark blue color that seemed almost green, like the color of the sea right before a storm. Lyra nodded her approval before taking charge.

"Off shoulder, Druella, with a sweetheart neckline, and A-line at the waist. Organza and tulle preferably, and throw a corset somewhere in there. I want the skirt to look like a ball gown, but use a light fabric, tulle, maybe? I don't want her looking like a cupcake and occupying the entire room." said Lyra, as if she had already planned everything out in her head.

Druella had Hermione stand after Daphne when Lyra had approved of the final sketch. Then, they were ushered out, all three happy with everything.

"That was quick." Daphne noted, making Hermione chuckle.

"Mother knows I don't enjoy it very much, so she makes these trips as short as possible for me." she admitted. "Honestly, I think she mourns my disinterest in fashion every night before sleeping."

Daphne laughed, making Hermione smile. It seemed so perfect, this moment, walking around Paris with her mother and best friend. She stored the memory in her mind, saving it for a rainy day.

* * *

A pair of hands came from behind her, covering her eyes. She shrieked, before elbowing the offender in the stomach.

"Argh! Bloody hell, Hermione, what was that for?" a familiar voice yelled. The girl whipped around to find Blaise Zabini clutching his stomach in pain.

"I'm sorry!" she said worriedly, "I didn't know it was you! You should know better than to sneak up on a witch."

"Yeah, well I'll remember never to sneak up on _you_." Blaise said pointedly, trying to straighten up.

"Come on, then." the boy said, "You're late. We were supposed to leave ages ago. Draco's been whining for hours."

"Sorry," said Hermione, ' _someone_ refused to leave the bathroom even after half an hour inside."

"Perfection takes time, Hermione." said Daphne, running a hand through her hair.

" _Finally."_ a voice said as they stepped into the sitting room of Malfoy Manor.

"Good evening to you, too, Draco." greeted Hermione. "Hello Theo, Pansy."

All her friends smiled back at her, all except Draco who still looked like he had sucked on a lemon for too long.

"Is everyone here?" came a drawling voice, along with the sound of a door closing.

Hermione turned to find herself face to face with Lucius Malfoy, blonde hair slicked back, and walking stick at the ready. "Good evening, Lord Malfoy." she said, bowing, "Thank you for having us."

The man smiled at her, sending a chill down her spine, "It's my pleasure, my dear. Now, if everyone is ready, it's time for our departure."

Malfoy conjured a black umbrella from somewhere, extending it so each one of them could grab hold. In a flash of light, with a pull in their navels, they found themselves in a patch of grass, surrounded by trees decorated in red and green lanterns.

Hermione dusted off her clothes, flattening her jacket and dress with her hands, before helping Daphne to her feet. "I hate Portkeys." Daphne announced dizzily.

"Come along, children. It's about to begin." Lucius said, beckoning them forward.

Hermione could see the three boys almost bouncing in excitement as they approached the stadium. "All this for Quidditch." she said, earning chuckles from both Pansy and Daphne.

"Prime seats!" said the Ministry witch at the entrance upon being handed the tickets by Lucius. "Top box, straight up, Mr Malfoy, as high as you can go."

After what seemed about half a century, the party reached the top of the staircase and found themselves in a small box, set at the highest point of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the golden goal posts. About thirty purple-and-gilt chairs stood in three rows here.

"Ah, here's Lucius!" a voice exclaimed. Hermione craned her head to find Minister Fudge in the row above them. In an attempt not to be noticed, she shielded herself with her hair, hoping that the Minister wouldn't look too closely.

"Fudge," Lucius acknowledged, holding out his hand for the Minister to shake, "How are you? I don't think you've met my son Draco? We've brought his friends along, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Not, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, and Hermione Dagworth-Granger."

Fudge seemed to stand at attention at the mention of her name. She cursed herself for having the worst luck in the world. Plastering a smile on her face, she faced the Minister.

"Miss Dagworth-Granger, a pleasure to see you again. How's your grandfather?" the man said.

"He's doing very well, Minister. I'll tell him you said hello." she said sweetly.

"You've met?" Lucius inquired, observing the interaction like a hawk.

"We're acquainted." said Fudge. "Anyways, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk — Obalonsk — Mr. — well, he's the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else — you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?"

Hermione whipped her head back so fast it almost collided with Daphne's, sure enough, there in the front row, looked like a gaggle of Weasleys, a single Longbottom and in the middle of it all —Harry Potter himself, who stood glaring mercilessly at Lucius Malfoy.

"Good lord, Arthur," Lucius said softly, glaring at the red haired man that must have been the Weasley patriarch. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"

Fudge, who wasn't listening, said, "Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."

"How — how nice," said Mr. Weasley, with a very strained smile.

Lucius nodded sneeringly, before continuing down the line of seats. Hermione ignored the daggers being bored into the back of her head by a certain Weasley, risking a glance at Potter, who was giving her a curious look. She nodded to him, just slightly, in acknowledgement, and the boy did the same, before returning his attention to the field. They settled themselves, with Hermione in between Pansy and Daphne, and the boys crowded together.

Next moment, Ludo Bagman charged into the box.

"Everyone ready?" he said, his round face gleaming like a great, excited Edam. "Minister — ready to go?"

"Ready when you are, Ludo," said Fudge comfortably. Ludo whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat, and said "Sonorus!" and then spoke over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium; his voice echoed over them, booming into every corner of the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen . . . welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce . . . the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!" The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval.

When Hermione saw what was causing the commotion, she wrinkled her nose in disdain. _"Veela."_ she said, in synchrony with Pansy and Daphne. The three girls watched as their male friends began their chauvinistic reactions to the creatures, all three standing dazedly, trying to get closer to the railings.

Hermione rolled her eyes before taking out her wand and shooting a spell to push them back down in their seats. Lucius noticed. He sent her an appraising look, before nodding his thanks.

She trained her gaze back to the field, as Bagman announced "Kindly put your wands in the air . . . for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goal posts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd oooohed and aaaaahed, as though at a fireworks display. Now the rainbow faded and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Predictably, it started raining gold.

She watched as the Weasley children scooped up what the could before shoving the coins in their pockets. _'Too bad it'll be gone in a few hours'_ she thought.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome — the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you — Dimitrov!" A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the field from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters.

"Ivanova!" A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out.

"Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand — _Krum!_ "

The crown went mental, cheering and clapping as the last player zoomed out onto the pitch. He was thin, dark, and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows.

"He's so dreamy." sighed Daphne.

Hermione glanced at her friend to make sure she was alright. "You're just saying that because he's a Quidditch player." she muttered, following her friend's line of sight, towards the player waving his hands to the crowd.

* * *

They were ushered out of the top box as soon as the match was over, inhales of avoiding the surge of people trying to get through. When they arrived at the clearing where they had first appeared, Lucius called out "Mopsy!". After a fraction of a second, a small house elf appeared with a pop, trembling visibly in front of its master.

"Take the children back to the manor." said Lucius. The elf readily took Draco and Daphne's hands, ready to leave.

"No, Draco will remain here. As well as Theodore and Hermione." the man said, "The rest of you may go."

The children exchanged a look before stepping back, allowing Mopsy and the others to disappear, looking confused. The moment they left, Lucius cast a dillusionment charm and a silencing charm over the clearing.

"You children are to stay here and observe. You are not to get in the way, understood?" he said, looking at each of them in the eye.

When neither of her friends replied, she said, "Yes, sir."

"Good." said the elder Malfoy.

At that moment, a rustling in the bushes caught their attention, followed by the sound of feet approaching them.

"Who goes there?" called out Lucius, pointing his wand in direction of the sound.

"A brother." said a voice in reply. From the woods, out came four hooded figures, their faces covered by masks. "What are these children doing here?" said the figure in front.

"Think of it as the first step of their initiation." said Lucius with a cold smile. Hermione watched as he conjured a cloak and mask similar to the ones the men were wearing. She spared a glance at the two boys next to her. Draco had a hard look on his face, staring straight ahead, and Theo seemed uneasy with the situation, despite this though, they kept close to her side, as if to protect her.

The man looked them over, his gaze falling on Hermione. "Do you know what we are, child?"

"Death Eaters." she said, without hesitation, her voice steadier than her heartbeat.

He chuckled in amusement at her bravado. "And who might this be?" he asked, "This is hardly the place for a young lady."

"My name is Hermione Dagworth-Granger." she said. Recognition seemed to spark in the man's eyes, and he turned to face Lucius.

"The Black heir?" he said incredulously, "You're out of your mind. Alphard Black is a muggle loving coward, we can't possibly trust her."

"My grand father is no coward, nor is he a blood tradition." she growled vehemently, praying to Merlin that her acting was enough to convince these people that she wasn't lying, "And neither am I."

Lucius set a hand on her shoulder, stilling her. "She can be trusted." he said, "She's more Bellatrix than she is Sirius."

Hermione bristled at the comparison to her mad aunt.

"We'll see about that." the man said. That moment, a jet of green light speared through the sky, emitting a loud bang.

"It's time." said Lucius, as he donned the robe and mask. "Keep out of sight." he reminded them, before leading the group through the trees. When the footsteps faded into silence, Theo took her by the wrist, forcing her to face him.

"Are you bloody mental, Hermione?" he barked, "Do you know who those people are?"

"Death Eaters." she said simply.

"He could have hurt you." Theo said, tightening his grip.

'He wouldn't have." she said with confidence.

"Draco, talk to her." Theo said.

"Shut up." Draco said flatly, "Let's go watch."

Hermione tore her arm away from Theo's grasp, following the other boy as he weaved through the trees. She heard Theo grumble behind him, sighing in resignation as he began to follow. The weaved through the trees until they came to the edge of the forest, where they hid behind a large tree, allowing to see everything.

The sounds of celebration had stopped, and the footfalls of people running echoed through the campsite. Hermione's eyes were glued to the four floating figures in mid-air their bodies being contorted into grotesque forms. Her fists clenched in anger at the sight.

As they watched, a loud thump sounded from somewhere near them. "Tripped on a tree root." a familiar voice said. Hermione froze, cursing all things good for her bad luck. Before she could stop him, Draco stepped forward, making his presence known.

"Well, with feet that size, hard not to," he drawled.

Potter, Longbottom, and Weasley, their faces lit by the glow of Potter's wand, whipped around upon hearing the voice, coming face to face with the three Slytherins. Weasley said something that left Hermione scandalized.

""Language, Weasley," said Malfoy, his pale eyes glittering. "Hadn't you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn't wan't to be spotted, you know. You're just as filthy as those stupid muggles, after all."

"Shut it, Malfoy." snarled Potter.

"Never mind, Harry." said Neville, trying to ease the situation. There came a bang from the other side of the trees that was louder than anything they had heard. Several people nearby screamed. Draco chuckled softly. Hermione forced a smirk on her lips, wondering how Draco could be so cruel.

"Scare easily, don't they?" he said lazily. "I suppose your daddy told you all to hide?"

"Where're your parents?" said Potter, his temper rising. "Out there wearing masks, are they?"

Draco turned to face him, still smiling, ""Well . . . if they were, I wouldn't be likely to tell you, would I,

Potter?"

"Come on, Harry" said Neville, pulling Potter along the path. "We've got to find the others."

The three passed by, each boy glowering at her as they walked by. Paying no mind, she looked on as another jet of light lit the sky. In a way, it was a good thing that the Gryffindors had seen them there, it would make her job of avoiding any interaction with them all the more easier.

Suddenly, the sky lit up once more, but it was different from all the other times. Hermione squinted her eyes at the shape forming in the sky, she realized that it was a colossal skull, comprised of what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. As they watched, it rose higher and higher, blazing in a haze of greenish smoke, etched against the black sky like a new constellation.

It was her first time seeing the Dark Mark not drawn on a sheet of parchment. It chilled her to the bone just looking at it, eerily beautiful in its malevolence. They heard a crack from somewhere behind them, and Lucius appeared, both his robes and mask gone, looking as stoic as ever.

"Time to go." he said, as if he had just taken them on a field trip. "Hold on to each other now."

She grabbed hold of Draco just in time, feeling the pull of Apparition taking a hold of her. In a snap, they were back at Malfoy Manor standing in the middle of the sitting room. Everyone else had gone to bed, and their appearance had disturbed the serenity of the place.

"Well, children, anything to say?" Lucius asked.

"It was … enlightening." Hermione said with a small smile she hoped passed as intrigue. This earned her a smirk in return. Both Theo and Draco remained silent.

"Very well then." the man said. "Off to bed now. Hermione, your Portkey is set to leave early tomorrow morning, don't forget."

* * *

The instant she appeared in the Manor, she was engulfed in a tight embrace. Lyra Black looked the worst she had ever been in a very long time. _"Mon cher, j'étais si inquiet. Est-ce que tu vas bien?"_ her mother said, running a hand through her hair.

"Yes, Mama, I'm fine." Hermione said. "Lord Malfoy took us away at the first sign of trouble."

Her father pulled her into a hug when her mother finally let go. "You aren't leaving this house until you turn forty." he said jokingly, but Hermione could tell by the lines on his forehead that her mother hadn't been the only one worried.

"Where are Uncle and Grandfather?" she asked, looking around.

"In the library. They've been waiting for you." her father said. She nodded, and hurried to the library, quickly closing the doors behind her upon seeing Sirius and Alphard.

"Good morning." she said in greeting.

"Are you alright, my dear?" Alphard asked, approaching his grandchild, holding her shoulders as if to inspect for any signs of damage.

"Yes, I'm fine." she dismissed, "A little shaken, but I'm fine."

"What happened?" Sirius asked. Hermione recounted everything that happened the night before, watching as the men's frowns grew as her story progressed. When she finished, she was quickly dismissed, asked to leave the two for them to talk.

She was slightly irked at not being included in the discussion, but waved her annoyance away, after all, she still had to pack her trunk for the next day. Hermione secretly dreaded the resumption of classes, anxious about how her _'Advanced Potions'_ with her mentor were going to be.

"Missy Hermione?" a voice squeaked from the doorway to her bedroom.

"Yes, Mimi?" she said, facing the elf.

"Does Missy needs any help?" she asked, looking at Hermione's empty trunk, and all her things strewn across her bed.

"Yes, Mimi, please." Hermione said with a grin, watching the house elf get to work

* * *

A/N: Four chapters in a month! Woohoo! The end is *ugh* though. Sorry! I'm working on the next chapter as fast as I can.


	26. Chapter 26 : Le Vide Sombre

**Chapter 26 :** **Le** **Vide Sombre**

". . . Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore — the man's such a Mudblood-lover — and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defense rubbish we do. . . ."

Hermione stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. Draco had been droning on for ages. She lost count of how many times he had said the word _father_ after the first fifteen minutes. She gazed out the window absently, watching the scenery fly past them.

"Weren't you supposed to go to Beauxbaton's, Hermione?" Pansy asked, rousing her from her bored state.

"Oh yes," she said with a small smile, "My father attended The Academy, that's what they call it back home. If my grandfather hadn't requested I attend Hogwarts, I would be there now. I have some friends there, actually. I wonder if they'll be able to come."

"Have you ever been to Beauxbaton's?" asked Daphne curiously.

"Only once, with my father when I was very little. I think he was giving a speech. It's very beautiful there, and very different from Hogwarts."

Draco grew bored of the conversation quickly, annoyed that he was no longer the center of attention. Grabbing Goyle and Crabbe by their robes, he stomped out of the carriage sneering.

Hermione sighed tiredly as she stood from her seat. "I'll make sure he isn't causing too much trouble." she said.

She found the Malfoy heir in the exact place she thought he'd be — tormenting the Chosen One and his gaggle of Gryffindors. Hermione stood by the doors, hanging back, not wanting to interfere with Draco's bullying unless it came to a fight.

". . . Maybe your father's too junior to know about it, Weasley . . . yes . . . they probably don't talk about important stuff in front of him. . . ." Draco's voice was taunting and cruel, so much different than how he was when they were alone. She didn't know what exactly made him act in such a way, but deep down, she knew he was a decent person, even if most of the time he didn't show it.

"Your father isn't half the man my father is, Malfoy." snarled Weasley, "At least he isn't a Dark Wizard's servant."

"Take that back!" growled Draco threateningly.

"Or what?" said Weasley, "What are you going to do, Malfoy?"

"You're really asking for it, aren't you Weasley?" she said, shoving her way in between Greg and Vince before coming to stand next to Draco.

"Is your girlfriend here to save you?" said the redhead, barking out a laugh.

"Shut it, Weasley." she snapped.

"Oi! You running away, now?" he said, looking past her. Hermione turned to find Draco walking out of the carriage, his ears tinged pink.

"Draco?" she said, grabbing his wrist. The boy brushed her off brusquely,

"Leave me alone." he said, leaving her at a loss for words.

* * *

Draco hadn't said a word to her since the Hogwarts Express, and it was worrying her. Usually, he would comment whenever she said something swotty, or tease her if she wanted to go to the library after supper, but he kept mum. Her friends didn't seem to notice, since when they were together, Draco still acted as if everything was normal. It was only her that she was ignoring, and she had no idea why. Hermione had no clue how to fix the situation, so instead, she ignored him back, usually keeping all her attention drawn to a book or homework. That was why when he became a ferret, she noticed a few moments too late.

"LEAVE IT!" a harsh voice shouted from somewhere in the Great Hall, shocking her out of her concentration. She set her book down, edging forward to the group of students that had began to form. Professor Moody — the new Defense professor, was at the center of it all, along with Potter, Vince, Crabbe, and an oddly pale ferret.

"What's a ferret doing here?" she wondered aloud, drawing the attention of the student next to her, a Hufflepuff in her year, Ernie Macmillan.

"Didn't you see? Professor Moody just transfigured Draco Malfoy into a ferret! Malfoy tried throwing a curse at Harry behind his back."

"What?!" she exclaimed, her mouth dropping open in shock.

She watched in horror as Moody pointed his wand at the ferret again — it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upward once more. "I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned," growled Moody as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do. . . ."

The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly. "Never — do — that — again —" said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upward again.

"Professor Moody!" said a shocked voice.

Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher. Hermione sighed in relief at the sight of the Transfiguration professor.

Moody, is that a student?" shrieked Professor McGonagall, the books spilling out of her arms.

"Yep," said Moody.

"No!" cried Professor McGonagall, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Draco had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing.

"Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!" said Professor McGonagall weakly. "Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?"

"He might've mentioned it, yeah," said Moody.

"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"

"I'll do that, then," said Moody, staring at Draco with great dislike.

Draco, whose pale eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently up at Moody and muttered something in which the words "my father" were distinguishable.

"Oh yeah?" said Moody quietly, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. "Well, I know your father of old, boy. . . . You tell him Moody's keeping a

close eye on his son . . . you tell him that from me. . . . Now, your Head of House'll be Snape, will it?"

"Yes," said Draco resentfully.

"Another old friend," growled Moody. "I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape. . . . Come on, you. . . ."

And he seized Malfoy's upper arm and marched him off toward the dungeons. Hermione struggled to imagine what the man's class would be like, if that was his method of punishment.

* * *

Draco continued to avoid her, forcing her to pair up with Theo during Potions. It wasn't that Theo was bad at it, she merely preferred working with the best possible option. Professor Snape seemed to have reached a new level of vindictiveness towards the Gryffindors over the summer, glowering at the other half of the class all throughout his lecture. At the end of the class, after giving Longbottom a detention and scarring the boy for life, he called her aside. She waved Theo away, gesturing for him to go on without her.

"Good afternoon, Professor." she said, nearing the man's table. He did not return her greeting.

"We shall begin our lessons tonight." he said, without looking at her, "Be here at exactly 8 o'clock. I do not tolerate tardiness."

She nodded in understanding before taking her leave, hurrying to their next class as quick as she could.

"What did Snape want?" asked Theo as took a seat next to him.

"I'm taking Advanced Potions this year." she informed her friend, "My father insisted on it. My lessons start tonight."

"Do you even have the time for that?" Theo asked.

"I'll make time." she said, just as Moody entered the room, glaring at them frighteningly.

"You can put those away," he growled, stumping over to his desk and sitting down, "those books. You won't need them."

Sounds filled the room as students returned their books to their bags, exchanging curious looks with one another. Moody took out a register, shook his long mane of grizzled gray hair out of his twisted and scarred face, and began to call out names, his normal eye moving steadily down the list while his magical eye swiveled around, fixing upon each student as he or she answered. From now and then, he'd pause on a name, glaring at the student before moving on with a huff.

"It's come to my attention that you're behind — very behind — on dealing with curses." said Moody, when the last person had declared themselves present. ""So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other."

"So — straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to stop disrespecting your Professor, Mr Zabini."

Everyone turned to face the back of the room, where Blaise was balancing himself on the back legs of his chair, making faces at Daphne. He had slammed back don to the ground the moment he was caught, apologizing under his breath.

"So . . . do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"

A few tentative hands rose in the air, including her own. Moody pointed at Tracey Davis.

"Um, the Imperius Curse?" she said, tentatively.

"Very good." said Moody appreciatively. He opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. Three large black spiders were scuttling around inside it. Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it in the palm of his hand so that they could all see it. He then pointed his wand at it and muttered, _"Imperio!"_

The spider leapt from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk and began slipping down and up again like a yoyo. Moody jerked his wand, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance onto one of the tables. The Slytherins broke out into chuckles, even Hermione gave a small grin.

"Think it's funny, do you?" he growled. "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?"

The laughter died away, leaving a tense silence.

"Total control," said Moody quietly as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. "I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats. Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse," said Moody.

Hermione felt Theo tense next to her. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye worriedly, but remained focused on the man in front of her. This was a dangerous thing to be discussing, especially with a class like this.

"The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT

VIGILANCE!" he barked, and everyone jumped.

"Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"

Almost everyone who had raised their hand before remained still. Hermione squared her shoulders and raised her hand hesitantly.

"Yes?" said Moody, his magical eye rolling right over to fix on her.

"The Cruciatus Curse." she said.

Moody was looking very intently at her, this time with both eyes. "What's your name, girl?"

"Hermione Dagworth-Granger, sir." she said uneasily.

"Middle name?"

"Black, sir." she said, keeping her eyes on his, even though her stomach churning. Moody's eyes seemed to grow even more ferocious at the mention of her name, but he made no further inquiries.

Turning back to the class at large, he reached into the jar for the next spider and placed it upon the desktop, where it remained motionless, apparently too scared to move.

"The Cruciatus Curse," said Moody. "Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea," he said, pointing his wand at the spider. _"Engorgio!"_ The spider swelled. It was now larger than a tarantula. Moody raised his wand again, pointed it at the spider, and muttered, _"Crucio!"_

At once, the spider's legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound came from it, but Hermione was sure that if it could have given voice, it

would have been screaming. Moody did not remove his wand, and the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently —

The class remained seated in stony silence, watching the insect writhe on the desk in pain until Moody finally felt that he had gotten the point across. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Pain," said Moody softly. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse. . . . That one was very popular once too. Right . . . anyone know any others?"

No one dared raise their hand. The faces of her classmates were painted with various looks of disgust and horror. Slowly, and very shakily, she raised her hand for the third time.

"Yes?" said Moody, looking at her.

" _Avada Kedavra."_ Hermione said in a voice softer than she had intended.

"Ah," said Moody, another slight smile twisting his lopsided mouth. "Yes, the last and worst. Avada Kedavra . . . the Killing Curse." He put his hand into the glass jar, and almost as though it knew

what was coming, the third spider scuttled frantically around the bottom of the jar, trying to evade Moody's fingers, but he trapped it, and placed it upon the desktop. It started to scuttle frantically

across the wooden surface.

She forced herself not to look away as Moody raised his wand.

" _Avada Kedavra_!" Moody roared.

There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound, as though a vast, invisible something was soaring through the air — instantaneously the spider rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. Several of the students stifled cries; she had felt Theo flinch next to her, and someone behind them was sniffling.

Moody swept the dead spider off the desk onto the floor. "Not nice," he said calmly. "Not pleasant. And there's no countercurse. There's no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he's in this castle."

Hermione's thoughts went to Potter. She wondered what it must have felt like, whether or not it had hurt, or if it was an instant — blinding light and then fading into nothingness.

"Avada Kedavra's a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it — you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it." said Moody, his bad eye rolling around quickly in its socket.

Hermione wondered if he was refraining from teaching it because it was illegal, or because they were Slytherin. The man probably thought that he was standing in front of a group of junior Death Eaters, which wasn't entirely untrue.

"Now . . . those three curses — Avada Kedavra, Imperius, and Cruciatus — are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life

sentence in Azkaban." somehow, his words seemed more like a threat than anything else.

"He's a mad man!" hissed Blaise as soon as they were out of sight from the professor.

"Always being around Dark Magic must have gone to his head." agreed Theo.

Hermione drowned their voices out, her mind filled with a thousand worries. What had she gotten herself into? _That_ was what she was facing, instant death, never ending torture, and mind control. She felt like vomiting. What if Voldemort wanted her to do those things to somebody else?

* * *

She rapped her knuckle on the heavy wooden door hesitantly at exactly eight in the evening.

"Come in." came Snape's drawl from the other side.

"Good evening, Professor." she said, upon seeing the man sat where she had left him, still going through tests.

"Good evening, Miss Dagworth-Granger." he said, setting down a piece of parchment. "I trust that you are prepared for whatever you're learning tonight."

"Yes, sir." se said seriously.

"Good. The headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumency. I hope that you prove more adept at it than Potions." he said.

"I'll try, sir." said Hermione, earning a lazy half smile from her professor.

"Now, Occlumency. This branch of magic seals the mind against magical intrusion and influence. Voldemort, as it happens, is highly skilled at Legilimency, the ability to extract feelings and memories from another person's mind."

Hermione already knew all of this, but chose to keep her mouth shut, letting the professor go on.

"It is known, that contrary to common belief, Legilimency is _not_ mind reading. The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by any invader. The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, it requires you to break down barriers of thought and emotion, to delve into the minds of your victims and to interpret your findings correctly.

"The Dark Lord, for instance, almost always knows when somebody is lying to him. Only those skilled at Occlumency are able to shut down those feelings and memories that contradict the lie, and so utter falsehoods in his presence without detection."

Hermione nodded in understanding.

"When you are faced with the Dark Lord, it will do you good to remember no to look him directly in the eye, this will lessen the chances of him being able to use Legilimency on you. But, if he talks directly to you, you _must not_ avoid eye contact.

"As of now, we shall focus on you being able to block my advances at seeing into your mind. Later on, we shall establish a decoy memory, as to not alert the Dark Lord that you are capable of Occlumency. To block a Legilimens, one must construct a wall. Imagine just that, building a wall in your mind. You will need to fight me off, keep your thoughts away from me as hard as you can You should refrain from using your wand for this, if you try to deflect the spell physically, it _will_ cost you your life . . . Brace yourself, now. . . . _Legilimens_!"

Snape struck just as she took a deep breath to build resistance: the room swam in front of her eyes and vanished, suddenly, she was suddenly standing in a black space, as if she was floating in a black sky. In front of her was a silvery smoke, bearing her professor's image. The smoke was quickly spreading, and the void suddenly came to life, images appeared, racing through the void. Hermione realized that these were her memories. She was _inside her mind._

Quickly, she began imagining a brick wall in front of her. Out of nowhere, one single brick appeared. She growled in frustration, glancing over at Snape, whose smoky form was getting closer and closer to her memories. Exerting all the force she could, she pictured more and more bricks being laid on top of the current one, and suddenly, a short three foot wall expanded, creating a blockade between her and Snape.

The professor looked back at her in clear surprise, although he merely had to jump over the wall to get to her nearest memory. As soon as he touched the image, everything faded away.

It was the memory of earlier tat day, with Moody standing before them menacingly. " _Crucio!"_ the man cried, and the spider fell, twitching painfully.

She was wrenched from the memory quickly, and the Potions classroom came back into view. Hermione wavered for a moment, feeling heavy, before grabbing onto a desk to steady herself. She looked up at Snape, who seemed to be observing her intently.

"It appears that you have a natural inclination to Occlumency, though I was still able to break in, it was a passable attempt at your first try. Maybe the Headmaster was right, after all." the man said.

"Again." Hermione said weakly, her voice coming out as a croak.

"Aha," said Snape, grinning like a cat, "You pushed yourself far. That's good, at least I know you aren't taking this lightly. The Dark Lord, for sure, will not. Deep breaths now, Miss Dagworth-Granger."

Hermione followed obediently, taking large breaths of air through her mouth, letting her heart rate slow to normal.

"Let's go again, try to build the wall higher this time . . . on the count of three . . . one — two — three — Legilimens!"

As soon she landed in the void, she began building, stacking up the bricks until she could no longer see the other side of the void. If she could sweat inside her mind, she would have been. Hermione sighed in relief as she placed the last few bricks, triumphantly looking back at her creation. Suddenly, a loud bang echoed throughout the void, putting her off balance, causing the images behind her to shake.

She looked around frantically, trying to find where the noise had come from. There, far to her left, was Snape, surrounded by a pile of smoking bricks, reaching out to touch the nearest image.

"Shite." she muttered, as she brought into the memory.

It was a happier one, she was back in France, sitting in the middle of a pile of books. She was about eight years old, and this young version of Hermione had taken an interest in astronomy at that age, devouring any book the library had about the stars.

She didn't know when exactly she had returned to the real world, only finding herself back when Snape told her to get back on her feet. She hadn't even noticed that she had fallen to her knees, panting with exhaustion.

"Take a seat, Miss Dagworth-Granger." said Snape, conjuring a chair for her. She grateful took it, trying to catch her breath.

"That was very good, Miss Dagworth-Granger." said Snape, making her feel as if this was great praise coming from the dour professor. "It is not a normal occurrence to have someone as young as you are create a full barricade against an experienced Legilimens."

"Thank you, sir." she said, unsure if the professor was complimenting her or stating a fact.

"But it won't be enough. I broke through your wall without much effort, the Dark Lord will have much more power. That is why a single brick wall is not enough. You must learn to create something stronger, and more of it. Layer the walls one by one against each other. When you have accomplished this, we may begin threading your memories into the walls."

"Alright, I'm ready." she said, standing up. But she could not remain standing. Hermione fell back to her seat in a slump.

"You have used up most of your energy for tonight." said Snape, amusedly. "Go and rest.I want you back here at the same time on Tuesday, we will continue then."

Hermione tried to complain, but the stern look Snape was giving her made her hold her tongue. "Yes, sir." she said, before getting up on her feet, gripping the chair for support.

She dreamt of walls that night, and the darkness of the void.

* * *

a/n: New chapter wahu! So, in other news, I'm writing a new story called Water for the Daffodils, it's a non-pureblood Hermione, so she's her normal self. It's set in the year after the war, and it's a Seventh Year fic, so if you want or whatever, go check it out!


	27. Chapter 27 : Vieux et Nouveau

**Chapter 27 : Vieux et Nouveau**

Alastor Moody was a raving lunatic.

The same thought was probably running through her classmates' minds at the moment, because the professor had just announced to the entire class that he would be putting the Imperius Curse on each of them in turn, to demonstrate its power and to see whether they could resist its effects.

"Professor?" Hermione said, raising her hand. "Didn't you say yourself that it's illegal?

Moody swept the desks away with a flick of his wand, leaving a space in the middle of the room. "Dumbledore wants you to know what it feels like," said Moddy gruffly, his magical eye swiveling onto Hermione and fixing her with an eerie, unblinking stare. "If you'd rather learn the hard way — when someone's putting it on you so they can control you completely — fine by me. You're excused. Off you go."

Hermione shook her head calmly, not allowing the professor's glare to unnerve her. "I apologize for my impertinence, Professor Moody." she said, bowing her head.

"Then you might as well be the first one up, Black." Moody said challengingly.

"My proper name is Dagworth-Granger, sir." she said sweetly, forcing herself not to react.

"Hmph." snorted Moody, "Well?"

Hermione sighed, but followed suit, walking to the middle of the class to face the professor head on. Snape's words were ringing in her ears; _'Occlumency is similar to fighting off the Imperius Curse. If you are capable of one, then the other shall come easily.'_ With the practice she had been getting from the hawk-nosed professor, she could probably fight off the curse with a little effort, although she had never done it before.

Moody raised his wand, pointed it at Hermione, and said, _"Imperio!"_

It felt wondrous, not at all like Legilimency. She felt a floating sensation as every thought and worry in his head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. She stood there, only half aware that everyone was watching her.

Then She heard Mad-Eye Moody's voice, echoing in some distant chamber of her empty brain: _Dance like a monkey … dance like a monkey …_

Hermione began to raise her hands but stopped midway, a thought suddenly interrupting her, something was tugging at her brain, something about Occlumency? She could hear the sound of Professor Snape's voice somewhere in the back of her head, _'Fight it off!'_ he said.

Something in her head snapped, and suddenly, she was on the ground, kneeling. "Now _that's_ more like it!" growled Moody. Hermione felt the curse ebb away from her, releasing her from its grasp. "That's how you fight the curse off!" shouted Moody, although he didn't seem to be too happy at her being able to do so.

"Good job, Black!" congratulated Moody, "Malfoy, you're next!"

Hermione was left alone for the remainder of the class, much to her relief. She spent the rest of the class watching her classmates try and fail to fight off the curse. She watched in amusement and Theo began hopping like a frog, and Draco twirl like a ballerina.

"Off his bloody rocker." mutter Blaise, as he hobbled out of the Defense classroom — Moody had cursed him to try and kick Vince in the shin, but the other boy jumped out of the way, causing Blaise to kick a desk instead. "How the bloody hell did you do it, Hermione?"

"I just did, I guess." she said, shrugging.

"Bloody well perfect, aren't you?" said Blaise, slinging his arm over her, "That's our girl, brightest witch of the year."

"Hmph!" someone said from behind them. They turned to see Draco stomp past them, dragging Vince and Greg along with him.

"What's with him?" Theo wondered aloud.

"He's probably just throwing another tantrum, you know how he is." said Blaise. But Hermione knew better, she wanted to talk to Draco, but she didn't know how.

As the days went on and their workload increased, they only thing the fourth years had to look forward to was the dawning approach of the Triwizard Tournament. The day before the announced arrival of the delegations from Beauxbaton's and Durmstrang, the castle was abuzz with chatter. Even the teachers seemed more lively than usual. Talk about who the Hogwarts champion was going to be was quickly replacing all conversation topics, and the Weasley twins had begun a bet on who would be chosen. The most popular choice seemed to be Cedric Diggory, even the Slytherins seemed to be supporting the idea.

"That idiot, Hogwarts champion?"said Blaise, as they were lounging in the common room after dinner that night.

"He's not an idiot. You just don't like him because he beat Slytherin at Quidditch." said Hermione, "He's actually a fair student, and a prefect too."

"You only like him because he's handsome." mumbled Blaise under his breath.

"Not true, if I liked people based on how they looked, I'd be one of your little chits." said Hermione waspishly.

"So you think I'm good looking, hmm?" said Blaise, wagging his brows at her. She slapped the look of his face lightly.

"You're incorrigible." she said, rolling her eyes.

"Incorrigible _for you_." he teased.

"That doesn't even make sense." said Theo, who had been watching the exchange with a grin on his face.

"But you can't deny it, Cedric's _dreamy_." sighed Daphne.

"He looks like a vampire." snorted Blaise, receiving a pillow to the face from Daphne.

* * *

When they went down to breakfast the next day, they found that the Great Hall had been decorated over night. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers' table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H.

"Why can't Hogwarts look like this all the time?" said Hermione, voicing her thoughts, "It looks so much more appealing than it usually is."

"Now, now, Hermione, us Brits can't be as _posh_ as you French people." joked Daphne, "Although you do have a point."

"I don't know how anybody's going to concentrate in classes with all the excitement in the air." said Hermione with a frown.

"They'll probably just dismiss us early." her friend said.

It was the exact opposite. Even if one could practically see the anticipation swirling about all day, the teachers seemed stricter than usual. Nobody but Hermione paid attention in lessons, the only teacher who had given up instructing them was Professor Snape, who was only too happy to dismiss them half an hour early. As soon as the bell rang, the students rushed to their common rooms to deposit their bags, pull on their cloaks, and rush back to the Great Hall. That is, except Daphne, who had demanded Hermione wait until she was done fixing her hair.

"I need to look my best." Daphne said, struggling with her thick blonde curls, "Foreign boys are the _best_ kind of boys."

Hermione rolled her eyes at her friend. "The Triwizard Tournament isn't about flirting, Daph, it's about building inter-school relationships."

"I _am_ building inter-school relationships. They're just a tad bit more friendly than the teachers would mind." said Daphne.

As soon as Daphne finished, they made their way to the entrance hall, where the heads of houses were ordering their students into lines.

"Miss Greengrass, is there a reason why you look like you're look as if you're attending a gala rather than a welcoming ceremony?" drawled Snape as he inspected his students.

"This is just how I normally look, sir." the witch said, batting her blue eyes prettily at the bat-like man. Snape just sneered at her and carried on down the line.

They filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening; dusk was falling and a pale, transparent-looking moon was already shining over the Forbidden Forest.

"It's nearly six." said Theo, checking his watch, "How do you think they're arriving?"

"The train?" suggested Pansy.

"Not likely." said Hermione, gazing up at the sky, if she squinted, she could almost make out something glittering over the horizon —

And then Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers — "Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where?" said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.

"There!" yelled a sixth year, pointing over the forest. Something large, much larger than a broomstick — or, indeed, a hundred broomsticks — was hurtling across the deep blue sky toward the castle, growing larger all the time.

"It's a dragon!" shrieked one of the first years, losing her head completely.

"Don't be stupid . . . it's a flying house!" said a Gryffindor first year, which was quite close to what the thing was. As the gigantic black shape skimmed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, they saw a gigantic, powder-blue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring toward them, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.

The front three rows of students drew backward as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed — then, with an almighty crash that made Longbottom jump backward onto Amrish Gupta - a Slytherin fifth year's foot, the horses' hooves, larger than dinner plates, hit the ground. A second later, the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes. Hermione could just make out the Beauxbaton's coat of arms on the carriage doors before it swung open.

"I love the French." she sighed.

"You're French." Blaise pointed out.

"Exactly." she said.

A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forward, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor, and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. Then Hermione saw a shining, high-heeled black shoe emerging from the inside of the carriage — a shoe the size of a child's sled followed, almost immediately, by the largest woman he had ever seen in her life. The size of the carriage, and of the horses, was immediately explained. A few people gasped.

If one had never met Madame Maxime before, he would have thought she was a very intimidating woman indeed, but, taking her height in consideration, the Beauxbaton's headmistress was a very soft spoken woman.

Dumbledore started to clap; the students, following his lead, broke into applause too, many of them standing on tiptoe, the better to look at this woman. Her face relaxed into a gracious smile and she walked forward toward Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, though tall himself, had barely to bend to kiss it.

"My dear Madame Maxime," he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dorr," said Madame Maxime in a deep voice. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you," said Dumbledore.

"My pupils," said Madame Maxime, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her.

Hermione's attention was drawn back to the carriage, noticing that about a dozen boys and girls, all, by the look of them, in their late teens, had emerged from the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxime. Hermione craned her neck to see whether she knew anyone from the crowd.

They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk (Daphne sighed in envy), and none of them were wearing cloaks. A few had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads. From what she could see of them, they were staring up at Hogwarts with apprehensive looks on their faces. Hermione knew the feeling. Hogwarts castle wasn't exactly the most welcoming of sights, unlike the Chateau de Beauxbaton's.

As the French delegation moved inside the castle to warm up, the Hogwarts students remained to wait for the Durmstrang delegates. For a few minutes, the silence was broken only by Madame Maxime's huge horses snorting and stamping. But then —

"What's that sound?" someone asked from in front.

Hermione listened, a loud and oddly eerie noise was drifting toward them from out of the darkness: a muffled rumbling and sucking sound.

"The lake!" yelled a Gryffindor fifth year — she recognized him as the Weasley twins' best friend, Lee something.

From their position at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds, they had a clear view of the smooth black surface of the water — except that the surface was suddenly not smooth at all.

Some disturbance was taking place deep in the center; great bubbles were forming on the surface, waves were now washing over the muddy banks — and then, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake's floor. . . . What seemed to be a long, black pole began to rise slowly out of the heart of the whirlpool . . . and then they saw the rigging. . . .

"It's a mast!" she heard Potter yell.

Slowly, magnificently, the ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it were a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide toward the bank. A few moments later, they heard the splash of an anchor being thrown down in the shallows, and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank.

She could just make out the silhouettes of people passing the lights in the ship's portholes. Hermione noted that the students all seemed to be built along the lines of Vince and Greg, but then, as they drew nearer, walking up the lawns into the light streaming from the entrance hall, he saw that their bulk was really due to the fact that they were wearing cloaks of some kind of shaggy, matted fur. But the man who was leading them up to the castle was wearing furs of a different sort: sleek and silver, like his hair.

"Dumbledore!" he called heartily as he walked up the slope. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied. Karkaroff had a fruity, unctuous voice; when he stepped into the light pouring from the front doors of the castle they saw that he was tall and thin like Dumbledore, but his white hair was short, and his goatee did not entirely hide his rather weak chin. When he reached Dumbledore, he shook hands with both of his own.

"How good it is to be here, how good. . . . Viktor, come along, into the warmth . . . you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold. . . ."

Karkaroff beckoned forward one of his students. As the boy passed, the Slytherins caught a glimpse of a prominent curved nose and thick black eyebrows. Hermione vaguely remembered his face from somewhere but couldn't pinpoint from where —

" _It's Krum."_ hissed Blaise. "I don't believe it, it's Krum!"

"Yes, you've made your point, Blaise." Hermione said, as they filed back up the steps. "For heaven's sake, he's only a Quidditch player."

"You wouldn't understand, Hermione, you're so _uncultured_." said Blaise with a huff. "He's one of the best Seekers in the world!"

As they recrossed the entrance hall with the rest of the Hogwarts students heading for the Great Hall, she saw Lee whats's-his-name jumping up and down on the soles of his feet to get a better look at the back of Krum's head. Several sixth-year girls were frantically searching their pockets as they walked, even Daphne was in high spirits.

"I _told_ you it was worth it to fix my hair." she said, fluffing her curls, "And not just because of Krum, too, look at those French boys!"

Daphne and Pansy shared a giggle, making Hermione sigh tiredly. She was, however, interested in the French students, if only for the fact that she might know someone among them. The students from Beauxbatons had chosen seats at the Ravenclaw table. They were looking around the Great Hall with glum expressions on their faces. Three of them were still clutching scarves and shawls around their heads.

"I know exactly how they feel." she sympathized. "It's freezing here."

"Yes, Merlin, yes!" hissed Blaise in excitement. Viktor Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students were making their way across the hall towards the Slytherin table, even Draco looked smug about it. Krum sat down next to the blonde boy, and immediately Draco started talking about being a Seeker too.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and — most particularly — guests," said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," said Dumbledore. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

Hermione was delighted as the plates filled with food. The house elves seemed to have gone through the effort of creating dishes for foreign students. Dishes of Bouillabaisse and beef bourguignon were scattered around the table next tot he normal English food.

Movement from across the room suddenly caught her attention. "Oh, Morgana." she said in surprise. A girl from Beauxbatons had approached the Gryffindor table, without her muffler, a long sheet of silvery-blonde hair fell almost to her waist, she had large, deep blue eyes and a brilliant smile.

Hermione stood immediately upon recognizing the girl, quickly walking over to where she was.

 _"Fleur?"_ she said in disbelief, " _Est-ce vous?"_

The blonde turned, her skirts twirling around her.

" _Mon Dieu_!" the girl, Fleur, cried, " _'Ermione?"_

" _Oui!"_ Hermione exclaimed, exchanging kisses with the each other. _"I didn't know you were coming!"_ she said in French.

" _I'm one of the candidates!"_ she said. _"How is your maman? I haven't seen you in so long! Alexis is here too! Oh, he'll be so happy!"_

 _"I am."_ came a deep voice from behind them.

A dark haired boy with kind brown eyes was smiling at them brightly. _"Alexis!"_ Hermione cried. _"You're so tall!"_

 _"That's what a few years do to you, mon cher."_ he said, laughing.

 _"You have to meet my friends."_ she said, grinning, bringing them towards the Slytherin table, unaware that she was drawing the attention of the other students.

She stopped in front of her friends alongside Fleur and Alexis. "Daphne, Theo, Blaise, this is Fleur Delacour and Alexis Thierry. We used to play together when I was younger."

The entire Slytherin table seemed to be staring at Fleur, which Hermione had expected. Her friend' shortage had that effect on people. Blaise stood with a charming grin on his face and bowed in front of Fleur.

"Pleased to meet you, mademoiselle." he said, placing a kiss on the back of her hand.

 _"Is he like this with everyone?"_ whispered Alexis to her, observing the scene.

 _"Yes, but not usually this bad."_ she admitted, making Alexis laugh.

Daphne was gazing at Alexis brightly, "Hello, I'm Daphne." she said, eyes twinkling.

"My pleasure, mademoiselle." he said, copying the way Blaise had bowed and kissed Fleur's hand, making Daphne giggle.

 _"I'm sorry to keep you."_ Hermione said. _"You should go back to your dinner, you must be tired."_

 _"Yes,"_ agreed Fleur, _"We must talk more, 'Ermione."_

" _Demain."_ she said.

 _"Yes, tomorrow."_ agreed Alexis.

Hermione returned to her seat as the two left for the Ravenclaw table.

"You witch!" hissed both Blaise and Daphne once they were out of earshot.

"Yes, that's what I am." said Hermione, taking a sip of water.

"He's gorgeous!" "She's gorgeous!" They said at the same time.

"Mhmm." she said.

"How come you've never said anything about them?" Daphne asked.

"Because I knew you'd act like starving blast-ended skrewts, which you are." she said.

"Oh, wish posh." said Daphne dreamily.

"Hullo." said someone from down the table, it was one of the Durmstrang boys. He had shed his robes, revealing a maroon and black uniform. He was rather stern faced, with deep set eyes and a thick eyebrows. "My name is Ivan."

Hermione smiled kindly at the boy, who looked to be a few years older than them. "I'm Hermione, it's nice to meet you."

"You are from Hogwarts, yes?" he asked, which seemed to her like a rather thoughtless question.

"Yes, I am." she nodded.

"But you are from France?" he asked.

"I live in Paris, but my grandfather wanted my to go to school here." she explained.

"And he is?"

"Alphard Black, he's an Englishman."

"Ah, so _you_ are the Potions Heiress." the boy said grinning. "Let me introduce myself again, I am Ivan Ivanovich."

Hermione's eyes hardened for a fraction of a second before she smiled again, "How is Lady Erina?"

"My mother is doing well." he replied, pleased that she had recognized him, "She mentioned that you would be here. We were supposed to meet over the summer, but your mother said that you had suddenly become busy."

"Yes," Hermione said, not missing the indignant tone in his voice. "My summer was quite hectic, I apologize for that. Maybe we can meet sometime over the next break."

She had no plans whatsoever to meet with him.

The Ivanovich family was one of Ukraine's wealthiest, most powerful wizard lines, and Ivan was the heir to their fortune. Hermione and her mother absolutely _detested_ the Ivanovich's. They were prideful and overly comfortable in their wealth. Erina Ivanovich had called on her mother about three months prior, insisting they arrange a marriage meeting between their two children, which Hermione's mother had pretended to agree to, until a few weeks later where she had to politely decline due to _'Hermione's prior commitments.'_

"We better." the boy said, "You know, my father —"

"Ivan." came a deep voice in warning. Across the table a stormy eyed Victor Krum was glaring at his schoolmate.

Ivanovich quieted immediately. "Sorry, Viktor." he muttered underneath his breath.

Hermione spared a curious glance at the Quidditch player. He gave her a curt nod, before returning to his previous conversation.

Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now. "The moment has come," said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation" — there was a smattering of polite applause — "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

"The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch." Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the

Hall, now approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students.

"The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire." Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames. Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.

"This Tournament isn't to be taken lightly, Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

"Guess we'll just be spectators, then." said Blaise, glumly.

"Rather that than die in the first few seconds." said Theo.

* * *

Hermione slipped into the hallway quietly, making sure that no one had seen her. Still in her school robes, she walked past the dungeons and into the Potions classroom, where Professor Snape was waiting for her.

"You had Defense today, did you not?" the professor asked as she approached.

"Yes, sir." she replied, confused as to why he was asking.

"Did Mad-eye have you practicing with the _Imperius_ again?"

"Yes, sir."

"You'll be doing meditation tonight." he said, not glancing up from the parchment he was holding.

"Meditation, sir?" she asked.

"Yes, Miss Dagworth-Granger, meditation." the professor said, sounding exasperated, "You've used quite a bit of your magic fighting off the curse, it's enough for one day. Go outside and find somewhere quiet. Clear your mind. Meditation allows you to calm your thoughts and strengthen resistance."

"But it's after curfew, sir." she said.

"The Headmaster has given his permission." Snape said, "But be sure not to be seen by any of the prefects."

"Yes, sir." she said, before exiting the room. Honestly, if she was just going to sit somewhere, why did she have to do it outside. She took some time to change out of her robes into something warmer, trading the skirt for a pair of leggings and a wool jumper.

Hogwarts at night was an eerie place, the gargoyles and suits of armor not helping alleviate her nerves. Quickly, she walked out through the entrance hall, wondering where she should go. She found herself walking around until coming upon a large tree stump looking over the Black Lake.

A moment later, she found herself perched on top of the stump in an Indian sit, trying to _'Clear her mind.'_

After a few minutes, she sighed in frustration, having no idea what she was doing.

"Vot are you doing?" came a voice from somewhere in front of her — somewhere close.

She opened her eyes in surprise, finding Viktor Krum staring at her strangely just a few feet away. "Argh!" she exclaimed, almost tumbling over.

Krum caught her arm just in time, pulling her upright. Her mind registered a moment later that his hand was cold and slippery.

"You're wet!" she said, looking at him intently, his hair was dripping and he was in nothing but a pair of swim trunks, making her blush.

"Yes." Krum said simply. "I vos swimming."

"In the Black Lake?" she said, "Isn't it cold?"

"Is warmer here than back home." he replied with a shrug. "Vot are _you_ doing?"

"Er, I'm meditating." she admitted.

"You do not look to be doing a good job." he pointed out.

"I don't really know how." Hermione said.

"There is no right or wrong way." he said, "It does not need trying. One simply meditates."

"Okay." she said, unsurely.

"You are Hermi-ninny, correct?" he asked, dark eyes pinned on her intently.

"My name's Hermione, yes." she made sure to enunciate the words clearly for him.

"Her-mine." he tried again.

"Call me Mira, it's my second name." she said, after a few more failed attempts.

"Mira." he said, smiling, "You are the Potioneer's daughter? Ivanovich's betrothed?"

"No!" she exclaimed, aghast. "Did he tell you that?"

"It is what he has been saying." Krum said. "Is he not telling the truth?"

" _Salaud!"_ she said, hotly, "I am most certainly not betrothed to that pig!"

"I am glad." said Krum. "You should begin your meditating again now."

"Er, alright." she said in confusion.

"Good night, Mira." he said.

"Good night, Viktor?"

With the sound of splashing water, he headed back to the Durmstrang ship, leaving a shell-shocked Hermione with a racing heart that could not slow down enough to allow her to meditate.

* * *

a/n: So there you go, the schools are _finally_ here. I'm thinking about writing more about Hermione and Krum, what happened between them etc., what do you guys think?


	28. Chapter 28: Pensées Tranquilles

**Chapter 28** **: Pensées Tranquilles**

When she arrived in the Great Hall the next day, she was surprised to find it full of life for an early Saturday morning. Students from all three schools were milling about, some circled around the Goblet of Fire, others trying to get to know the foreign students better, and some were quietly eating their toast.

She was more surprised, however, to see Daphne already at the Slytherin table, her hair once again curled to perfection.

"Are you going to keep waking up half an hour earlier to fix your hair until the Tournament is over, Daphne?" she said as she neared the table.

"Keep your voice down and sit." hissed Daphne. "I'm trying to look nonchalant. Are you going to do anything about _your_ hair?"

Hermione shook her head in disbelief at her friend. "What's wrong with my hair?" she asked, fiddling the loose plait that rested on her shoulder.

"Has anyone put their name in the goblet yet?" she asked curiously, taking a bit of toast and spreading marmalade over it.

"The Durmstrang delegates all lined up earlier to drop their names in, some of the Beauxbatons students too, but no one from Hogwarts yet. Oh, look, there goes another one."

A girl in Beauxbatons robes dropped a piece of parchment in the goblet before turning to face her friends, who applauded. "Oh, it's Fleur." Hermione said, waving her hand to catch the girl's attention.

When she finally took notice of Hermione, she waved back before making her way towards them. "Good morning, 'Ermione, Daphne." she said.

"Congratulations on putting your name into the goblet." grinned Daphne, "I didn't realize you were older than us."

"Fleur's in her Seventh Year at Beauxbatons now." explained Hermione. "We knew each other through our mothers. Oh, that reminds me, Fleur, take a seat, I have something to tell you."

"What eez eet, 'Ermione?" the blonde said in a hushed whisper.

"Ivan Ivanovich is here, did you know?" Hermione said, after making sure no one was around to hear.

"Zat brute?" said Fleur, wrinkling her nose. "Have you talked with him?"

"Yes, last night. He's just like his mother. _And_ he's been spreading lies that I'm his betrothed." Hermione whispered angrily.

 _"Salaud!"_ hissed Fleur, "How did you know?"

"One of his friends told me last night."

"Hold on a minute, just who is he, exactly?" interrupted Daphne, thoroughly confused at the progression of the conversation.

"The Ivanovich's are Ukrainian oligarchs, the wealthiest, actually. They've all got horrid personalities, though. His mother tried to set a marriage meeting over the summer but I didn't have the time. Apparently, he's been spreading rumors that it's already happened."

"You should tell your mother." said Daphne.

"I agree." nodded Fleur.

"I'll owl her a letter later." said Hermione. "Anyway, how are you, Fleur? Do you have any plans after you finish school?"

"I 'ave applied to several companeez in France, but I am most interested in working in England. I applied for a job in Gringotts, but 'ave not received a reply." the witch said a bit dejectedly.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll get the job." assured Hermione.

Just then, a peal of laughter came from the entrance hall. They turned to see the two Weasley twins and their Lee friend running down the staircase looking extremely excited. After a whispered conversation with Potter, Longbottom, and their younger brother, the twins approached the Goblet, pieces of parchment in hand.

"Weren't they the ones complaining yesterday about the age restriction?" said Daphne, her brows bunched together in confusion.

"This is going to be interesting." predicted Hermione.

The three girls watched as the twins walked right up to the edge of the age line. Then, with the eyes of everyone in the hall on him, Fred Weasley took a great breath and stepped over the line, followed quickly after by his brother, who was grinning from ear to ear,

Next moment, there was a loud sizzling sound, and both twins were hurled out of the golden circle as though they had been thrown by an invisible shot-putter. They landed with a thud, ten feet away on the stone floor, and, adding insult to injury, there was a loud popping noise, and both of them sprouted identical long white beards.

The hall erupted in laughter, along with the three girls, who were covering up their giggles with their hands.

"I did warn you," said a deep, amused voice, and everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours."

Breakfast passed quickly. Fleur had chosen to remain where she sat, joining the both of them. Though she did end up leaving once Blaise had begun harassing her with compliments.

"I'm off to the library." Hermione said, leaving Pansy and Daphne to ogle their newfound crushes together.

She was quite pleased to note that even though Hogwarts had suddenly increased the number of students it was accommodating, the library remained quiet. Taking her regular spot by the windows, she settled down, looking over her homework list before getting up to gather the books she needed.

She worked her way through lunch, not noticing that the sun had set and the candles in the library had been lit.

"Miss Dagworth-Granger?" came the soft but stern voice of Madam Pince.

"Yes, Madame?" she said, looking up from her work.

"It's dinner time, child." the woman smiled fondly.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, only then realizing how late it had become. "Thank you, Madam. I'll be gone in a minute." She returned all the books with a quick charm, before carefully rolling up her homework and placing her things in her book bag. She arrived just in time to see the Durmstrang students, led by Karkaroff enter the Great Hall.

"Where were you at lunch?" asked Theo as she hastily took a seat next to him and Daphne."

"The library." said Daphne, "Where else would she have been?" They exchanged a chuckle before the food appeared once again.

The students seemed to have very little appetite for the feast before them, regardless of its extravagance. Everyone in the Hall seemed to be focused on one thing and one thing alone — whether or not the headmaster had finished eating yet.

At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet. On either side of him, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students. Mr. Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested.

"When the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" — he indicated the door behind the staff table — "where they will be receiving their instructions."

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, blueness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting. . . . A few people kept checking their watches. .

The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it — the whole room gasped.

The Headmaster caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white. "The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."

The Hall exploded in applause as Krum rose from his seat a little was down the table, and slouch up toward Dumbledore; he turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.

When everyone's attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames. "The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"

This time, Hermione clapped louder, swelling with pride for her friend, who got gracefully to her feet, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair, and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

The Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment. "The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"

They broke out once more in applause — though if one tried really hard, he would hear Blaise Zabini groan loudly at the announcement. The Hufflepuff table sprang to their feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off toward the chamber behind the teachers' table.

"Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions all the support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real —"

The headmaster suddenly stopped talking, and it was glaringly obvious to every one in the room what distracted him. The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, shooting out another piece of parchment.

Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the offending piece of paper. He held it out and stared at the name written on it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. Then, finally, Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out — "Harry Potter."

In that moment, if Hermione had coughed, she was sure the sound would have echoed throughout the Great hall — that was how silent it was. All eyes were on Potter, who seemed to have been turned to stone at the announcement of his name.

"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore said again, his voice seeming to reverberate around the room.

Potter got to his feet, trod on the hem of his robes, and stumbled slightly. He set off up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables.

The moment he disappeared behind the door, the Hall erupted in a cacophony not even the teachers could settle, the voices of French, Russian, Romanian, English and every language in between, were mixed together, creating a sound worse than a screeching banshee.

"How did ruddy Potter get in?!" shouted Blaise over the din.

 _"Comment est-ce possible?"_ shouted a boy from Beaubaxtons.

 _"Acesta este un scandal!"_ a Durmstrang student cried.

In the end, all the students had been silenced after much effort from the professors and a little help from very powerful silencing charms. The students filed away to their common rooms for the night quietly, some students not of their own accord. The Weasley twin had to have their mouths stuck shut by Professor McGonagall, when after fifteen minutes they still had not stopped yelling.

* * *

On Sunday morning, she was rather pleased to see that Potter was absent from the Gryffindor table and Weasley had a dour expression on his face. Potter's absence meant that the Gryffindors would have nothing to boast about over breakfast, sparing her the migraine. The Hufflepuffs had been spending the entirety of breakfast cheering and clapping each other on the back. Every once in a while, someone would begin chanting " _Dig - go - ry!"_ like a war cry.

The moment she finished her breakfast, she up and left, seeking peace and quiet in her sanctuary.

Two hours. That's how much time she had immersed in total silence, surrounded by books and schoolwork. As the clock neared 10 o'clock, a strange twittering sound had begun to spread throughout the library.

Hermione sighed after a few minutes of enduring it, before looking up from her book to inspect where the sound was coming from. To her dismay, the library was half full of girls, their smiling faces littering the room. The main focus of the horde was the lone figure of Viktor Krum, who had at some point appeared. He seemed to be fully immersed in the book he was reading, not at all disturbed by his fan club.

She tried not to time mind it, to focus on her Arithmancy homework as hard as she could, but to no avail. The girls' giggles did not cease. Finally, Hermione snapped, sending her books suddenly flying back into their shelves, grazing a few girls in the process. She ignored the annoyed glares being sent her way, and packed away her things.

With a quick goodbye to a frazzled looking librarian, she stomped away angrily, not noticing the pair of dark eyes that followed her out the door.

* * *

Hermione's feelings of annoyance persisted until the next day, when she realized that Potter being made a champion would spike a surge of hate towards the boy from a certain pale haired wizard, who still was not on speaking terms with her.

She listened to Draco yap about how utterly lame Potter was throughout the day, unable to shut him up, lest he snap at her and push her away even more. She had even conceded to donning one of his horrid looking _'Potter stinks.'_ pins, in hopes that his anger at her would lessen, but he still continued to give her the cold shoulder.

In the weeks that followed, Hermione found herself running on empty, juggling coursework, lessons with Snape, and the inability to study in the library. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place, resorting to studying with a muffler on to drown out some of the noise.

Hermione had no idea why her friends were taking their classes so lightly, she was the only was left who still studied so intently, even Theo, who was usually so diligent, had left studying to a bare minimum. That was how she found herself one day, while she was reading a History book about the Salem Witch Trials in one of the courtyards, her friends surrounding her. They chattered amongst themselves, completely fine with leaving her to her reading as long as she was there to listen, even Draco seemed too excited to complain.

Perched on top of the boy's shoulder was a bright red lady bug, which Hermione knew to be Rita Skeeter in her animagus form. The Slyhterins whispered malevolently, spinning storied about Harry Potter and feeding them to the ravenous reporter.

One day, around mid-November, a week before the first task, Hermione finally snapped. She missed the library, missed her peace and quiet, missed the smell of old books and her view from the window. She cornered Krum after lunch, pulling him aside, into one of the many Hogwarts alcoves.

"Mira?" the boy said in surprise as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He had to look down at her because she was shorter than him, but her lack of height did not deter her from her goal. She poked a finger into his chest, eyes blazing fiercely.

"Will you, _please,_ for the love of Merlin, Morgana, and all their descendants, tell your little fangirls to shut their mouths when they're in the library?" she hissed. Viktor tried to say something to appease the witch, but she went on ranting, "I mean, outside of the library is fine! They can giggle and twitter as much to their hearts content, but some people — namely me — are _trying_ to study."

"Mira —" Viktor started but he was interrupted once more.

"I don't get it —" she huffed, "Why do they have to hang around you like vultures? I mean, alright,, you're famous, you're mildly good looking but why can't they just shut up?"

Viktor grabbed her wrist, trying to shut _her_ up, grinning at her in amusement. "You think I am good looking?" he said.

 _'Bollocks.'_ she thought, not meaning for that to slip out.

"Mildly. I said mildly." she squeaked. "Wait, was _that_ all you gathered from everything I said? Are you actually _that_ dense?"

Viktor chuckled, "You are very amusing, _solnishko._ " he said. "I will tell them to stop."

"Thank you." said Hermione, clearing her throat. "Er, could I have my hand back?"

Viktor released his grip on her immediately, still smiling at her.

"Anyways, that's all I wanted to say." she said, flushing prettily. "Thank you."

He watched her scamper away, her cheeks still burning in embarrassment.

* * *

After she had spoken to Viktor, the noise from the girls had died down dramatically, making her wonder what exactly he had said to them to make them keep quiet. Still, she reveled in the return of her silence, the awkward encounter with Viktor forgotten. Having the library back had lessen her stress enormously, even Snape noted the fact that she was become more and more quicker at building walls around her memories now.

So far, she had succeeded in changing the brick into metal, and could cast up about seven shields before Snape plowed through them. He kept telling her to create more, urging her to clear her mind so that she could push her memories farther away, giving her more time to create shields.

She got up abruptly, leaving her homework on her desk to go in search for a book on meditation. She found herself skimming the 'Mind Magic' section when finally she spotted a book that might help her, _Magical Meditations for the Muddled Mind._

"Are you still having problems with you meditations, Mira?" came a deep voice from behind her.

Hermione turned swiftly, somehow her wand had ended up in her hand, and was now pointed at the intruder. Her wide eyes found those of Viktor Krum's, who was staring down the end of her wand warily.

"Oh, it's just you." she said, placing her wand back in her robes.

"I told you you cannot force yourself meditation, did I not." he said, glancing at the book in her hands.

"Yes, but I still can't do it. I think it's —"

"That is what is wrong." Viktor said. "You think. Always thinking. Too much thinking."

Hermione huffed indignantly.

"Ven meditating, there is no space for thinking." said Viktor. "You must forget to think."

"Why do you know so much about it?" she asked curiously.

"It is good when in a match. Helps to think clearly." he explained.

"Huh."

"Ven is your next meditation?" he asked.

"Tonight, supposedly." she said.

"I vill join you." Viktor said bluntly.

"What?" she sputtered. "But —"

"I will teach you." he offered.

"You'll just be a distraction —"

"I am distraction to you?" he said, grinning widely.

"Not — not that way." she said weakly. "Oh, curse it all. Fine. Meet me at the same place at 9 o'clock."

She walked away before he could reply, leaving a triumphant looking Bulgarian in her wake.

* * *

This time, he came dry and fully clothed, much to Hermione's relief.

"Good evening." she greeted as he came up to meet her.

"Good evening." he said, smiling. "Are you ready for lesson?"

She gestured for him to begin.

"Let us sit down. We stay on the grass for now." he instructed. They got into position, about half a meter apart from one another. "Rest your hands on your knees, close eyes, and breathe."

"But that's what I was doing —"

"Follow." he said, his eyes already shut. She grumbled, but followed suit anyways.

"Focus on breathing. Inhale and exhale." he said.

She counted her breaths, tapping her fingers every odd number.

"Do not move body. Do not think. Do not count breathing." said Viktor.

"How did you—"

"Follow." he said.

She sighed. She kept back stick straight, breathing in and out.

"You are tense" observed Viktor. "Is not meditating, is just breathing. Stop thinking. Listen to wind, or to water. No thinking."

Hermione breathed in a deep inhale before closing her eyes again, listening closely to the sounds around her, the soft whooshing sound of the November breeze, the soft sound of the wind pushing and pulling the on the lake. She found herself mesmerized by the sounds, quickly becoming caught up in the rhythm.

"Mira … Mira …"

She was shaken out of her trace by a large hand on her shoulder. Hermione opened her eyes, following the hand until she came face to face with Viktor, who smiled at her.

"Did I do it?" she asked, receiving a nod in return. "For how long?"

"An hour, maybe a little more." he informed her. "How did it feel?"

"Like I was the wind." she said, grinning. "Thank you, Viktor."

"It is my pleasure." he bowed. "Tomorrow again?"

"I — I can't, I have Advanced Lessons." she told him.

"Ah," he said, nodding in understanding. "Next time."

"Next time." she echoed.

"Good night, Mira." he said, taking her hand in his and pressing his lips on the back of her hand.

"Good night," she said breathlessly, watching him walk up to the ship.

* * *

a/n: guess who couldn't fall asleep last night and wrote three chapters straight?


	29. Chapter 29 : The First Task

**Chapter 29 : The First Task**

Hermione was more worried than she had anticipated as she waited for the first task to begin. The arena seemed to be a rocky terrain, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary, well, not yet at least.

"Welcome to the firs task of the 1994 Triwizard Tournament!" said Ludo Bagman, his voice magically enhanced. "Our champions are now anxiously waiting their turn, ready to take on their first challenge. This task is designed to test one thing — their daring. They must retrieve the golden egg from the nest without disturbing the real eggs or hurting themselves. Now, do not be alarmed, the spectator stands have been equipped with magical protection systems to avoid any accidents.

"Now, without further ado … tamers, release the dragon!"

The Swedish Short-snout came crawling out from a hidden wall in the arena, heading straight to a nest that sat on top of a pile of boulders. Hermione's hands balled into fists in anxiety as she watched another wall slide open, and out came Diggory.

After a moment's hesitation, he waved his wand in a series of short flicks. Hermione wished she could hear what he was saying, because a minute later, where a rock had been was now a small dog. By this time the dragon had noticed him. Diggory hid behind a boulder, waiting for his the dragon to notice the decoy. Once it had, Diggory made a break for it, running as fast as he could to the nest, scrambling over rocks.

His haste in getting the egg caused a stir, making the dragon turn just as he neared the nest. The Short-snout bellowed loudly before breathing a fountain of red and yellow flames at the Hufflepuff. His cry of pain echoed around the arena, making Hermione wince. But the burns didn't stop him. With one last effort, he leapt, pushing himself as hard as he could to reach the gold egg in the middle of the nest.

A deafening roared sounded throughout the arena — and it didn't come from the dragon. Hogwarts students were on their feet, clapping and cheering loudly.

"Very good indeed!" Bagman was shouting. "And now the marks from the judges!"

He had received a solid 38 out of 50. The judges had had to dock points because of the burns, but it was a good score nonetheless.

"One down, three to go!" Bagman yelled as the whistle blew again. "Miss Delacour, if you please!"

When Fleur came out, she was trembling head to foot, but she had her head held high and her hand gripped her wand tightly. She hadn't though it was possible, but Hermione's nerves doubled when she saw her friend walk out, unaware of the Welsh Green Dragon hiding behind a mass of stone.

It lumbered towards her from behind, its shorter legs making it slower than the previous dragon, giving Fleur an advantage. She raised her wand and pointed it at the beast, the students held on to their seats tightly. Pink jets of magic flew from her wand towards the dragon, circling its head.

Then, to the crowd's surprise, it lowered his head. It seemed that the witch had put the dragon in a trance causing it to become sleepy. Fleur quickly tried to pass it, making her way to the nest, but to pass, she had to walk right in front of the beast.

Fleur crept by silently, and just when they thought she was free, the dragon let out a loud snore, snorting fire at the witch. Her skirt caught on fire immediately, which she put out with a hasty water charm. The judges docked points for that when she had gotten her egg, giving her a score of 39.

The next champion was Viktor. He looked less sure of himself than usual as the dragon came hurtling towards him immediately. He shot a spell at the reptile, hitting it straight in the eye. It worked — the dragon stopped charging at him, stomping around blindly. Viktor dashed to the nest quickly ad grabbed the egg — but moments after he retrieved it, the dragon went into a frenzy, and squashed a good number of the real eggs.

His score was still the best out of all the champions though. The judges had given him 40 points for his efforts.

Then there was Potter. He stepped into the arena looking like a lost little boy — which he most probably was. The crowed watched as he raised his wand and shouted a spell, which must not have worked because nothing seemed to happen. They watched anxiously as he leapt aside, dodging the Horntails flames.

Then, something came zooming from one of the towers and hurtling towards them — it was a broomstick. Hermione almost laughed, she had to give it to Potter, that was brilliant thinking. He hopped on the broom the moment he could, driving the dragon farther and farther away until the two were nowhere to be seen.

After a few minutes, Potter came zooming back, the large reptile hot on his heels. The, he did the unthinkable, Potter, as if he was merely playing a game of Quidditch, dove straight down from forty feet in the air, plummeting into a nose dive. The boys cooped up the egg and swerved up right before he could slam himself into the ground, eliciting a deafening cheer from the audience .

"Look at that!" Bagman was yelling. "Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is quickest to get his

egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!"

In the end, Potter tied with Krum, which had both schools a bit put off.

"That was bloody fantastic." said Blaise, still gazing at the arena.

* * *

When the crowd from the first task had cleared, Hermione slipped into the champions tent quietly. She had waited until Rita Skeeter had left before going in.

"Fleur!" Hermione called to the blonde who was being surrounded by her family. The two witches embraced tightly. _"You did amazing, Fleur."_ she said.

 _"Merci._ " said the witch, _"I thought I was going to die."_

 _"'Ermione?"_ came a shocked voice.

 _"Apolline!"_ she exclaimed upon seeing Fleur's mother. The two exchanged kisses, and Hermione congratulated the mother on her daughter's achievement. _"Excuse me, I have to see someone."_

She left the family to celebrate in peace, speaking through several curtains in the tent until she found one that was occupied. Viktor Krum was sat on one of the infirmary beds looking green.

"Viktor?" she whispered, trying to get his attention.

"Are you alright?" she asked, when he raised his head to look at her.

The older boy nodded his head at her, smiling weakly.

"You did a good job. Congratulations." she whispered, not sure if she should approach him, "I'll get Pomfrey for you."

Hermione slipped out, calling for the nurse, who shooed her away before she left to attend to Krum.

She wasn't sure why she had done that, before entering the tent, she told herself it was because she was worried about Fleur, but thoughts of the blonde witch were far from her mind as she tried to calm her racing heart.

* * *

"You have improved." said Snape, as he withdrew from her mind for the fifth time that night.

"I've been meditating." she answered curtly.

"It seems that you are ready to begin the next step." he said. "When layering memories with walls, it is best if you use a recent one at the surface, the Dark Lord would not see anything out of the ordinary at that, then beginning taking memories from your child hood. They do not have to be particularly significant ones, as long as there are a lot of them. If he thinks that all your memories are at the surface, he will not think twice to search deeper.

"After skimming through ten or so memories, the Dark Lord usually stops." Snape said. "Sometimes, you are supposed to show him what he wants to see. When this happens, cut off the memory immediately once you have given enough to satisfy him.

"Do you understand?" said Snape, his beady little eyes glaring down at her.

"Yes, sir." she said.

 _"Legilimens!"_

* * *

The start of December brought wind and sleet to Hogwarts. Drafty though the castle always was in winter, Hermione cursed the Scottish winds, which had somehow left a chill in her bones that did not want to leave.

Classes went on, though none save a select few were all that enthusiastic with schoolwork. The second task was scheduled in February — what the students considered a year long wait. They got by classes for the sake of passing time. But not Hermione, she still maintained her usual spot in the library, scribbling away furiously.

As the days passed, she was still yet to talk to Draco again, although it seemed, as of late, he was paying more attention to her when they were together with their friends, no longer turning away from her when their eyes met. She saw this as a major improvement, because if it was one thing she knew about Draco, he could hold onto a grudge for years on end. She just wished she knew exactly what he was holding a grudge about.

Her meditations with Viktor were few and unfrequent, her homework and Advanced Potions usually ate up all the time she had, but he still came to the library almost every day, without his dreaded fan club, she noted in relief. His presence though, was becoming almost as much of a bother as the girls'.

She was unsure as to why it was happening, but sometimes, she found herself glancing aimlessly at the Bulgarian instead of outside the window. He wasn't really doing anything out of the ordinary either, he just sat there reading.

* * *

The Slytherins were held back at the end of their Potions class, leaving the students in a foul mood. They were ready to leave and enjoy the weekend. It was only Snape's cold glare that stopped any of them from complaining.

"I have something to say to you all." drawled Snape, looking uncomfortable. "The Yule Ball is approaching — a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above — although you may invite a younger student if you wish —"

Pansy and Daphne broke out in shrill giggles, only to be silenced by Professor Snape.

"Dress robes will be worn," Snape continued, "and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. Now then this does NOT mean "that we will be relaxing the standards of behavior we expect from Hogwarts students. I will be most seriously displeased if a Slytherinr student embarrasses the school in any way.

"That is all."

They scuttled out of the classroom hurriedly, the students chattering about who they wanted to ask, or who they wanted to ask them.

"Hermione, does Alexis have a —" Daphne began before Hermione interjected.

"A boyfriend? Yes he most certainly does." she smirked at the look of disbelief on her friend's face, "Don't worry, Daph, there are tons of boys who'd love to ask you to the dance, just you wait."

Blaise had come to dinner that night looking very pleased with himself. When no one asked what his smirk was for, he began to grow annoyed.

"I," he announced, "have done it."

When no one rose to take the bait, the boy coughed into his hand impatiently.

"What is it that you've done, Blaise?" asked Theo politely.

"Gotten myself a date for the Ball." he said proudly.

"Already?" asked Draco.

"Yep, better now than wait until all the good ones are gone. She's a Beauxbatons girl, quite the looker, too." he said.

"Ugh, disgusting." said Hermione, wrinkling her nose.

"What?" said Blaise defensively.

"You're talking as if you're catching fish." she said.

"Dear, sweet Hermione." Blaise sighed, patting her hand, "If you're worried about not having anyone to ask you, I'm sure Theo here would love to go with you. Right, Theo?"

The dark haired boy coughed at the mention of his name, he had been in the middle of drinking his pumpkin juice. A pink tinge had appeared on his cheeks, "Er, sure." the boy said, smiling uneasily.

"You don't have to act like you're being tortured to do it, Theodore." she said, rolling her eyes. "And I'm not worried, Blaise."

"Oh? Do you have someone in mind then?" the boy challenged.

"No, not particularly." she said, "I'm just not the type of girl who'd worry about things such as dates."

"Well, _I am_." said Daphne, looking around the room anxiously.

"We have a few weeks before the ball, Daph, don't worry." Pansy said, eyes locked on a certain platinum blonde.

"Well, I'm off." said Hermione, slinging her book bag over her shoulder.

"The library again, Mione?" her friends said, knowingly.

She just shrugged in reply.

The library was pleasantly quiet, all the students were still at dinner, and no one really came during Friday nights. She laid out her Potions homework, sketching an outline of a bottle of the Elixir of Beauty. She was so engrossed with her work that she did not notice the presence standing next to her, looking over her shoulder intently.

"May I sit?" a voice said, making her jump.

She twisted around to see who the owner of the voice was. Viktor was standing behind her, looking at her intently.

"Sure." she said, the unfamiliar feeling in her chest growing.

He took a seat to her left, setting a book down on top of her table as she returned to her work. She waited for him to begin reading, but the Bulgarian just sat there watching her. Hermione spared a glimpse at the cover of his book. _Celestials, Constellations, and the Cosmos._

"Are you taking astronomy?" she asked politely, receiving a nod. "I like it too, Mira — my name — it's from the constellation —"

"Cetus, yes." said Viktor, taking the words right out of her mouth.

She flushed at the intent gaze he was fixing on her. Quickly she went back to her work, trying her best to avoid eye contact.

"Mira." he said, calling her attention. She dropped her quill in surprise.

"Yes?" she said.

"Do you have date to Yule Ball?" he asked. If anyone had told her before that night that Viktor Krum was capable of looking bashful, she would have laughed in their face. But now, faced with a pink cheeked eighteen year old Quidditch star, Hermione didn't know what to think.

"Er, no — not yet." she said.

"Vould — vould you like to go with me?" he asked.

"I — of course, Viktor." she said, breathlessly.

Almost instantly, his face brightened happily. "Good. That is good."

They sat in comfortable silence, reading and studying for the rest of the night.

* * *

The following day, she was approached in the halls by a flushed looking Anthony Goldstein— a Ravenclaw in her year.

"Would you like to be my date to the Yule Ball?" he said stiffly.

She smiled at him kindly, causing him to go redder. "I'm sorry, no. I wish i could." she said as nicely as she could.

"Why'd you turn him down?" asked Daphne. "He seemed nice."

"I don't really know him." Hermione said, not quite ready to tell her best friend that she already had a date.

Daphne, as it turns at, had not been forced to wait for long, because at dinner a dashing Beauxbatons boy approached the Slytherin table carrying a single gold petaled rose.

 _"En sa beauté gît ma mort et ma vie."_ he said charmingly, _"Will you do me ze 'onor of going to ze Ball wiz me?"_

Daphne was lovestruck, and could barely make out the words to say yes.

" _She would love to go with you."_ Hermione said for her friend.

As soon as the boy had left, Daphne practically fainted in Hermione's arms.

"Morgana, thank you." she whispered.

Their dresses arrived the following week, carried by four large owls into the Great Hall during breakfast time. The large pink dress boxes drew the attention of a lot of girls across the room, especially those of the French, who recognized immediately the tell tale pink glittering packaging of Bellamy Bespoke.

Daphne practical screamed in excitement. "Let's bring them to our room!" she cried, dragging Hermione out of the Hall with her.

"Calm down!" Hermione tried to say, fumbling with the heavy boxes, but her friend did not slow her step until they reached the dungeons, where they arrived in their rooms panting for breath. Daphne grabbed the box with a letter _D_ embellished on it and passed the other one to Hermione.

When she had caught her breath, Hermione set to work on expanding the size of her wardrobe to fit the dress so that she could hide it until the Yule Ball, then she did the same for Daphne.

"That woman is a genius." said her best friend, running a hand through the fabric of her dress.

"You are too much in your element, Daph." grumbled Hermione.

The Hogwarts staff, demonstrating a continued desire to impress the visitors from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, seemed determined to show the castle at its best this Christmas. When the decorations went up, Hermione noticed that they were the most stunning she had yet seen inside the school. Everlasting icicles had been attached to the banisters of the marble staircase; the usual twelve Christmas trees in the Great Hall were bedecked with everything from luminous holly berries to real, hooting, golden owls, and the suits of armor had all been bewitched to sing carols whenever anyone passed them.

Even Hermione couldn't resist the feeling of Christmas in the air. She finally set aside her schoolwork, and allowed herself to relax. She had been asked to the ball a couple of more times after Goldstein — once by a boy from Hufflepuff, and once more by a Beauxbatons boy. She turned them all down gently with a kind smile.

She was thinking to herself that that had to be the extent of invitations she was getting as she walked to the library one Saturday afternoon, when she was proved wrong in the most horrible of ways.

"Hello there." someone said. He was leaning against one of the pillars, staring at her intently. She continued walking, gripping her books closer to her chest.

"Hello, Ivan." she said in a clipped tone.

"Is that any way to speak to you Ball date?" the boy asked, falling into step next to her.

"I already have a Ball date." she said flatly.

"Exactly. Me." he said.

"No, not you." she replied, growing annoyed by his presence.

"You must be joking." he said, barking out a laugh.

"I most certainly am not." she said, her eyes looking straight ahead of her.

"You are." Ivanovich said, his voice growing cold.

"Look, Ivan —"

"No, you look." he growled, grabbing hold of her shoulder, twisting her to face him. She tried to wrench her face father away from his, uncomfortable with the feel of his breath on her face. "You are my betrothed, you are not allowed to date any other but me."

"I am _not_ you betrothed, you can go stick your marriage request up somewhere unpleasant." she hissed.

"Why you little —"

"Do you really want to finish that sentence?" she said, eyes blazing. Sometime while he had been talking, she had slipped her hand into her robes, bringing out her wand. Now, she had it pointing right at his chest.

The boy looked furious. He opened his mouth to say something in retribution when —

"Ivanovich!" someone barked from down the hall. Heavy footsteps approached them, and Hermione could see him clearly as he approached. "Let her go."

"This isn't any of you business, Krum." said the boy.

"Let her go, Ivanovich." growled Viktor, an angry glint in his eye.

After a tense moment, Ivan pushed her away, causing her to fall into Viktor's arms.

"Wait until my mother hears about this." he said.

"Ivanovich." Hermione called out once he had taken a few steps away. "You have made yourself an enemy of both the Blacks and Dagworth-Grangers. You wait until _my_ mother hears about this."

The boy stomped away angrily.

"You could not have beaten him." said Viktor, as he lead her into the library.

"You underestimate me." she said tensely.

"Ivanovich is not wary of the use of Black Magic." he warned.

"You underestimate me." she repeated, her eyed blazing in fury.

* * *

"Hermione?" Theodore had appeared at the entrance of the boys dormitory, just as she was about to step out for the night.

"Oh, Theo, I was just heading out." she said with a smile.

"Advanced Potions?" he asked, receiving a nod.

"Can I ask you something?" he said, rubbing a hand to the back of his neck. In the dim light of the green fire, Hermione wasn't sure if she could see a faint blush on his cheeks.

"Of course," she said.

"Do you want to go to the Ball with me?" he asked, his head down.

"Theo, you know you shouldn't take Blaise's words to heart." she said, smiling. "You don't have to ask me if you don't want to. Besides —"

"I want to." he said, suddenly, his face on fire. "This isn't about Blaise, I want to."

"Oh." Hermione said, eyes widening in alarm.

"Yeah."

"I kind of already have a date." she said awkwardly.

"Oh." he said, sounding a bit dejected, "That's alright. Good night, then." he turned to make his way back to the dorms.

"Theo," she called out, making him turn, his chest filling with just an ounce of hope, "I really am sorry."

He nodded, watching her slip out the stone entrance, before going back to bed with a heavy feeling in his heart.

* * *

a/n: is there anything that pains your heart more than your best friend falling in love with you but you don't share the same feelings?


	30. Chapter 30 : A Warm Winter

**Chapter 30 : A Warm Winter**

A/N: warning, girly chapter ahead

* * *

On Christmas Day, all the girls opened their presents together first thing in the morning. Hermione smiled at the pile of unwrapped presents she had laid on her best. From her father, a green and silver leather journal, from her mother, a large jewelry box containing an inch wide diamond choker, two silver hair combs, and a thin, diamond encrusted ring, along with a note telling her to war it with her dress and how to do her hair, from her grandfather, a handsome pair of pale blue mittens, from Sirius, a thin, razor sharp dagger, which she carefully hid under her mattress.

She had also received a few things from her friends; a new eagle feather quill from Daphne, a muffler from Theo, a set of different colored inks from Blaise, a silk hair ribbon from Pansy, candy from Vince and Greg, and she even got something from Draco — a second edition copy of _'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them'._

"Merry Christmas, Hermione! And thank you for the presents!" said Daphne, showing off the new amethyst studs from her best friend.

"Thank you for mine as well, Hermione." said Pansy, pointing to the emeralds in her ears.

They were greeted with "Merry Christmas." from all of their friends as soon as they arrived in the Great Hall, which seemed merrier and alight with activity.

"Thank you for the gifts, Hermione." said Blaise and Theo, smiling at her. Theo and Hermione were still awkwardly avoiding the topic of her refusal to attend the ball with him, but other than that, they pretended that nothing had happened.

"Thanks, Hermione." said Draco, offering her a small smile, much to her surprise.

"Thank you for your gifts as well." she said, grinning happily.

They had chosen to spend the day outdoors, the girls watching the boys muck around the fresh snow. If it was one thing Hermione loved about Hogwarts, it was the winter time. Somehow, during the first days of snowfall, the castle looked more innocent and less foreboding. The evergreens still had some leaves peeking out from under the snow, and the snow capped towers of the castle made the place look like an enchanted snow globe.

At around three o'clock, Pansy, Daphne, and Hermione bid goodbye to the boys, saying that they were going back to prepare for the ball.

"You need five hours to prepare for the ball?" asked Blaise incredulously.

"Blaise, you have barely scratched the surface of the inner workings of a witch's mind before a party." said Theo, as he ducked a snow ball that came hurtling towards him from Draco's direction.

"Hermione!" the blonde called out, "Who're you going with, then?"

She pretended not to hear, waving as she disappeared up the stone steps into the castle.

* * *

"I have no idea how to do this." cried Hermione in frustration. Her hair was dripping wet, falling limply on her fluffy green robe. She threw the sketch of a hairstyle her mother had sent her, the paper flying across the room.

The Slytherin fourth year dormitory was a mess of beauty products and squealing girls. It seemed that only Hermione and Millicent Bulstrode felt out of place amidst the ruckus.

"Let me help you with that." offered Daphne, her hair was 'resting' in a towel turban on her head, and her face was covered in some sort of green goo. The blonde witch shoved Hermione into the seat in front of her dresser, making quick work of wrestling the brunette's hair into submission.

Twenty minutes, three bottles of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, a few curling charms, and a whole lot of man power later, and Hermione's brown mop was transformed. It now fell in soft dark curls down her back, two small braids ran down moth sides of her head before meeting in the middle. The combs her mother had sent her kept everything in place. Daphne had not missed a single strand of hair.

"You're a life saver, Daph." Hermione grinned.

"Too true, my friend." she said, smirking.

Then, Hermione was left to fend for herself, faced with the job of making herself up. She could hear Pansy boasting about how Draco had asked her to the Ball to Tracey Davis, her shrill giggles reaching from all the way across the room.

Focusing on the task at hand, Hermione followed all the steps Mimi would have done had she been there. First, powder followed by blush, something called bronzer, a dusting a silvery powder across her eyelids, a swipe of mascara, and a soft pink lipstick.

She asked Daphne, who was busy working away on her hair how she looked. The witch, without even blinking, quickly changed the color of her friend's lipstick into a dark blood red.

"I look like a harlot!" she cried, glaring at her reflection.

"You look like your mother." said Daphne.

Hermione swiped the lipstick away with a damp cloth, replacing it again with the pink. "I don't need to look like I'm thirty." she said.

"Oh, whatever." said Daphne. "Go put on your jewelry and be careful not to move too much."

Hermione followed her instructions obediently, digging around her chest for the velvet jewelry box her mother had sent her.

Carefully avoiding her hair, she clasped the diamond choker around her throat, and the matching bracelet. She admired herself shyly in the mirror, admitting to herself that she didn't look half bad.

"Sweet Merlin." said Tracey, turning around to look at Hermione. Her eyes were glued to the diamonds around her neck. "What the bloody hell is that?"

"My Christmas gift?" Hermione said unsurely.

"Are those _real_?" she gasped.

"Of course, they're real." said Pansy snottily. "Her mother wouldn't allow her to wear anything else.

"Bloody hell, I don't think my mum makes enough in a _year_ to buy something like that." said Tracey.

"That's what you get when you're an heiress." said Pansy.

Hermione flushed in embarrassment. "It isn't a big deal, really." she said. "Do you want to borrow something of mine, Tracey?"

The witch's eyes widened in amazement, "I couldn't possibly —"

"No, it's alright." Hermione said kindly, glancing around the jewelry box for a suitable piece. "Here, just remember to return it back to me after tonight." She handed the girl a dainty gold necklace with a small tear-shaped diamond pendant.

"Are you sure?" said Tracey, holding the necklace in her hand.

"Of course." Hermione said, smiling.

Suddenly, the grandfather clock dinged seven times, making the girls squeal in alarm.

 _"Oh, no! I still don't have my hair done!"_ cried Daphne, who looked like she was already done.

"What do you need, Daph?" asked Hermione.

"Just another coat of Sleekeazy's." the witch said frantically, fussing with her chignon.

"I'll do it." offered Hermione, spraying her friend's hair generously with the potion.

"Thanks, Mione." said Daphne. "Can you help me into my dress? I'll help with yours after."

Daphne's dress was pretty and pink, suiting her fantastically. The fabric fell beautifully around her waist, covering the gold high heels the blonde was wearing. "You're turn." Daphne said.

Hermione's dress, too, suited her like it was made for her — which it was. The deep blue shone like the night sky, making the diamonds she was wearing look like stars. Her waist seemed tinier than normal, accentuated by the shape of the skirt.

"Those look absolutely divine!" said Tracey, who had left sour faced looking Pansy's side to fawn over the two. When all the girls appeared to be ready, they made their way to the common room, where the boys, except Blaise and Theo, who had dates from Beauxbatons, were waiting.

She saw Draco glance up as they entered, and blushed at the intense gaze he was pinning on her. "Good evening." she said.

Draco coughed, "Good evening." he said, "You look pretty."

"Thank you." she said, smiling.

"Come _on,_ Hermione." Daphne said, tugging at her friends skirts, "Didn't you say you were meeting your date at the entrance hall?"

The two girls hurried out, their heels clacking on the stone floor. Just before the door closed, she heard Draco say, "Er, you look nice too, Pans."

* * *

The entrance hall was packed with students, all milling around waiting for eight o'clock, when the doors to the Great Hall would be thrown open. Those people who were meeting partners from different Houses and schools were edging through the crowd trying to find one another.

Hermione could feel the looks sent their way, and she hesitated uneasily at the attention. Daphne held her hand tightly.

"Own it, Hermione." the witch whispered, "You look gorgeous. Now, who's your partner?"

"There he is." said Hermione, looking directly at the boy at the base of the stairs. He was smiling at her wildly, dressed in burgundy dress robes.

"Where? Is he behind Krum?" said Daphne, craning her neck.

"Wait. No!" her best friend gasped, eyes widening. " _Krum? Viktor Krum asked you?"_

"Shhh!" hissed Hermione, "Don't announce it to the whole school!"

"How did _that_ happen?" Daphne said in disbelief.

"Well, he spends a lot of time in the library." she explained.

"The library?" her friend said absently.

"I should go, Daph, he's waiting for me. Isn't that your date over there?" She left Daphne, who stared as Viktor came up to meet her, pressing a kiss on the back of her hand. Hermione flushed a bright red at the attention.

"Mira, you look radiant, _solnishko_." Viktor grinned.

"Thank you." she said. "You look handsome, too."

He offered her his arm, leading her down the stairs. Hermione's unease doubled as more and more people were looking her way.

"Your fans are staring." she said underneath her breath.

"It is _you_ who they are looking at, Mira." Viktor said.

He lead her to the entrance of the great hall, where Diggory and Fleur were waiting with their partners. She exchanged kisses with Fleur, who looked stunning in a silver wrap dress.

 _"You look amazing, Fleur"_ she said.

 _"As do you, 'Ermione."_ Fleur said, _"You better not lose sight of those beauties around your neck."_

 _"I know."_ Hermione laughed. _"My mother would have my head if I lost them."_

"Hermione, you look beautiful." said Cho, interrupting the conversation.

"You do too, Cho." Hermione said kindly. She had never talked tot he older girl before, but she seemed nice enough.

Once everyone else was settled in the Hall, Professor McGonagall told the champions and their partners to get in line in pairs and to follow her. They did so, and everyone in the Great Hall applauded as they entered and started walking up toward a large round table at the top of the Hall, where the judges were sitting.

The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.

Hermione kept her head straight, praying to Morgana that the etiquette lessons her mother had drilled into her head since she was a child would not go to waste.

Dumbledore smiled happily as the champions approached the top table, Karkaroff, too, wore a delighted expression as he watched Viktor and Hermione draw nearer. Ludo Bagman, tonight in robes of bright purple with large yellow stars, was clapping as enthusiastically as any of the students; and Madame Maxime, who had changed her usual uniform of black satin for a flowing gown of lavender silk, was applauding them politely. The fifth seat was occupied by a stiff looking redhead, who seemed to resembled someone she knew.

When the champions and their partners reached the table, the Weasley look-a-like drew out the empty chair beside him, staring pointedly at Potter, who took the seat hesitantly, making Hermione wonder if the official actually was a Weasley.

Hermione found that she didn't have much of an appetite, the butterflies in her stomach were busy fluttering about. She picked away at her food, listening intently to Viktor as he talked about his school.

"Veil, ve have a castle also, not as big as this, nor as comfortable, I am thinking," he was telling Hermione. "Ve have just four floors, and the fires are lit only for magical purposes. But ve have grounds larger even than these — though in vinter, ve have very little daylight, so ve are not enjoying them. But in summer ve are flying every day, over the lakes and the mountains —"

"Now, now, Viktor!" said Karkaroff with a laugh, "don't go giving away anything else, now, or your charming friend will know exactly where to find us!"

"Oh, Headmaster Karkaroff, I have my own ways of finding out." she said, blinking prettily at the man, "My father's given talks at various Wizarding schools you see."

"Of course, of course." said Karkaroff, smiling, "You are Hector's daughter, are you not? I am merely protective of Durmstramg, you see. Isn't that right, Dumbledore?"

"Igor, all this secrecy . . . one would almost think you didn't want visitors." Dumbledore smile, his eyes twinkling.

"Well, Dumbledore? Do we not jealously guard the halls of learning that have been entrusted to us Are we not right to be proud that we alone know our school's secrets, and right to protect them?"

Hermione ignored the two headmasters, choosing to listen in on Fleur's conversation with her date.

"Zis is nothing," she said dismissively, looking around at the sparkling walls of the Great Hall. "At ze Palace of Beauxbatons, we 'ave ice sculptures all around ze dining chamber at Chreestmas. Zey do not melt, of course . . . zey are like 'uge statues of diamond, glittering around ze place. And ze food is seemply superb. And we 'ave choirs of wood nymphs, 'oo serenade us as we eat. We 'ave none of zis ugly armor in ze 'alls, and eef a poltergeist ever entaired into Beauxbatons, 'e would be expelled like zat." She slapped her hand onto the table impatiently."

Roger Davies, Fleur's date, barely seemed to be hanging on to what she was saying. Hermione figured that he was too dazed by Fleur's natural beauty.

"Viktor," she said, remembering something.

"Yes, Mira?" he said, after taking a tip of mulled wine.

"You called me something earlier, solneshka?" she asked, fumbling over the word. "What does it mean?"

Viktor chuckled, "Solnishko." he said clearly, "It means my sunshine."

"Oh," Hermione said, blushing.

"Ho,ho! Viktor, you charmer!" said Karkaroff, interrupting them once again.

 _"You let him call you Mira?"_ whispered Fleur, leaning across Roger Davies to talk to her. She had a curious eyebrow raised.

 _"He can't pronounce Hermione."_ she explained, the blush not leaving her face.

 _"Is that the only reason?"_ her friend teased, laughing daintily.

 _"Whatever you're insinuating, you're wrong."_ she hissed.

"Mira," Viktor said, grabbing her attention, "Vould you like to dance?"

"Of course." she said, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor.

 _"S'amuser,_ Mira." Fleur teased.

The Weird Sisters were on stage, playing a sweet ballad. She walked onto the brightly lit dance floor, carefully avoiding catching anyone's eye. Viktor placed a hand around her waist, and the other held her hadn't tightly.

Hermione had never danced with anyone other than her dance instructor, her grandfather, and her father. Having a boy hold her like this set her face on fire and her chest racing.

"Breathe, Mira." Viktor said, he was so close that she could feel his breath. It was a pleasant feeling, not uncomfortable at all. "Clear your mind."

She laughed, tipping her head in amusement. "This isn't like meditation, Viktor."

"Yes, but you are looking too lovely tonight to be nervous." he said charmingly, as they fell into step to the music.

After a few songs, she and Viktor left the dance floor, red faced and grinning, she was holding on to him tightly, lest he be dragged away by a see of students.

"Oi, Krum!" someone called, making them both turn.

It was Diggory, Cho seeming to have disappeared from his side. He was surrounded by a group of five or so Hufflepufffs, his mates, it looked like. Viktor looked at her, as if to ask if it was okay.

"Let's go." she said.

"Hey, Hermione, Viktor." said Diggory. The handsome boy was pink cheeked, and his smile was bright. "My friends wanted to meet you Viktor."

Her date seemed to be engulfed in the attention that was suddenly showered upon him by the Hufflepuffs.

"Sorry about that." Diggory said, "They just really wanted to meet him."

"It's alright." she replied with an awkward smile.

Cedric suddenly slipped a hand into his dress robes, fishing out a silver flask from one of his pockets and taking a swig. She looked on in mild surprise. It wasn't a rare occurrence for the older boys to be smuggling alcohol into the school on special occasions, but she wouldn't have expected it from Cedric, a Prefect.

"Don't tell anyone." he said, grinning mischievously. "Want some?"

She took the flask from him, taking a sniff. "Firewhisky?" she asked, inhaling the smoky sweet smell.

"The young lady knows her alcohol" Cedric said, looking impressed. "Think you can handle it?"

In all honesty, she didn't know. She had had alcohol before, she was French, she'd been drinking wine since she was a young girl, but whiskey was uncharted territory for her. Not to be looked down on, though, she took a swig, wincing at the acrid taste it left in her mouth.

Cedric chuckled at her reaction, taking the flask back. "Yeah, it isn't the best."

"Vot is that?" asked Viktor, appearing to have escaped from Cedric's friends. He was glancing warily at Hermione and Cedric. Diggory offered the flask to him too, which Viktor took without a word, easily gulping down a mouthful.

"I should go see what Cho's up to." Cedric said after he had hidden the flask back in his robes.

"Can we walk around the gardens?" Hermione asked when she and Viktor were once again alone. She was beginning to feel the effects of the Firewhisky, just a slight dizziness, but it was there.

Viktor smiled at her, offering his arm.

They spent a few moments walking in silence, content in walking around.

"Vy vas Fleur making a big deal about me calling you Mira?" Viktor asked, breaking the silence.

Hermione looked up at him in surprise, her arm slipping away from his. "You speak French?" she asked in shock.

"Yes." he said, "I know three languages."

"How come you didn't tell me?" she asked.

"You did not ask." he replied simply.

"You're impossible." she said, laughing.

"So vy?" he pushed, wanting an answer.

"I only allow the people closest to me to call me Mira." she finally admitted, feeling a blush creep onto her face. The alcohol wasn't helping her fight it off at all.

"Really?" he asked, his brows raised in surprise. "So I am closest to you?"

"N — no." she stuttered, trapped in his dark gaze. She took a small step away from him, feeling light headed.

"I am not?" he asked, smirking, taking a step towards her, which she countered with another step back.

"Do you want to be?" she asked breathlessly.

"Very much." he said. He reached for her wrist, his hand wrapping around it easily. "I want to be — _closest_."

He tugged on her arm, pulling her towards him until they were flush against each other. She looked up at him with wide eyes, her heart threatening to jump out of her chest.

 _"My solnishko_ ," he whispered, bringing his face down.

Hermione's eyes fluttered shut, and suddenly, she felt his lips on hers, soft, and warm, tasting faintly of mulled wine and Firewhisky.

* * *

a/n: thoughts? opinions? violent reactions?

by the way guys, I'm currently studying for my preliminary exams, and I have a test in one of my majors tomorrow (Pathology, ugh) so I might not be updating any more this week. be back in a few days, though! xx


	31. Chapter 31 : Peine D'amour

**Chapter 31 : Peine D'amour**

A rustle in the bushes broke them apart, she pulled away from him breathlessly, unable to hide her grin. Another sound of rustling leaves caught her attention, thinking it was a teacher, she stepped away from the Bulgarian, looking around.

It wasn't a teacher.

There, behind one of the rose bushes, was a disgusted looking platinum blonde boy.

"Draco?" she called out, too surprised too look embarrassed.

Realizing that he had been discovered, he turned sharply, walking briskly back into the castle.

"Draco!" she shouted, ready to follow him, only to be stopped by Viktor's hand on her shoulder. She turned to look at him apologetically "I'm sorry. I'll meet you in the Great Hall in fifteen minutes." she said, breaking away.

Hermione walked as fast as she could in her heels, bunching up her skirts in her hands, following the direction where her friend had disappeared to.

She finally found him in one of the empty courtyards, kicking away angrily at a statue like it had slighted him. She shivered slightly as a cold breeze swept past.

"Draco?" she said softly.

"What do _you_ want?" said the boy, turning on her, his grey eyes looking like storm clouds.

"I want to know what's wrong, Draco." she said in confusion, "Did I do something to make you mad?"

"You want to know what's wrong?" the blonde laughed cruelly, " _You're_ what's wrong, Hermione."

 _"Me?_ " she asked in disbelief, "What did I do wrong?"

"You didn't do anything! That's the bloody point!" he shouted.

"I don't understand, Draco." she said, growing more and more dumbfounded.

"You're just so _bloody_ perfect!" he snapped, "Everyone says so, the teachers, our friends, _Viktor Krum_ , even my blasted father thinks so!

"He doesn't say it, but _I know_ that he's thinking it. He'd rather you were his child, I know it. Always going on and on about _Hermione_. Brightest witch in our year, _a prodigy_ , they call you. You fought off a bloody Imperious Curse like it was nothing! Father says the Dark Lord will make you his right hand in an instant."

"The Dark Lord? Draco, you're not making any sense." she said.

"But _you_ always make perfect sense, don't you?" he spat. "Perfect little Hermione."

"What do you want me to do?" she asked waspishly, quickly growing annoyed, "Pretend I don't know the answers? Not act the way I do? You know I can't do that, Draco."

"I KNOW!" he shouted. "I know, and that's why it's so bloody annoying. I can't hate you, but I _want_ to. My bloody father thinks I'm second best to you."

Hermione's heart ached for this boy. He craved so much for his father's attention and approval, willing to do almost anything to have the man look his way. She cursed Lucius for doing this to his own son.

"To hell with what your father says." she said softly. "No one thinks you're second best."

"I am." he said. "I'm worthless."

"You're not." she said, approaching him to lay a hand on his shoulder, "None of us think so. You can be annoying sometimes, but not worthless. You're the smartest boy in Hogwarts, and you're the youngest Seeker Slytherin's ever had, you're far from worthless. You know we're here for you, don't you? You can talk to me about anything, even if it's to get mad at me."

"Are you giving me permission to scream at you every time you get a perfect score on a test?" he asked, a smile threatening to show on his face.

"Not _every_ test." she said, jokingly, trying to put a damper to the tension in the air. "If you did that, you would have to be screaming at me for hours on end."

"Shut it." he said, chuckling. "Merlin, I can't believe how stupid I am."

She patted his hand lightly. "Sometimes, I can't believe it too." she said, "Now come on, our partners are waiting for us."

"Right," said Draco, still looking a bit down, "How's Krum?"

"He's alright." she said, blushing brightly.

"More than alright, from what I saw." he said, smirking.

"Put a lid on it." she hissed, as they walked towards the entrance hall together.

"Mira!" Viktor called upon seeing them enter.

"Hello, Viktor." she said, bidding farewell to Draco with a soft squeeze of his hand.

"Is everything well?" he asked, offering her his arm.

"Yes, everything's fine." she smiled reassuringly. "Let's go dance."

They danced until their feet ached and their mouths hurt from smiling. Hermione no longer felt the awkward tension between her and Viktor, as if it had been washed away by their kiss., but her stomach still felt like a swarm of butterflies were flitting about. When both of them had finally given in to exhaustion, they walked back to the entrance hall.

She took a step towards the stairs, and turned back. She was standing on top of the first step, the added height making her come face to face with Viktor.

"Good night, Viktor." she said, smiling. "I had a lovely time."

"As did I." he said.

"Good night." she said again, not exactly wanting to leave.

"Good night." he echoed, placing a soft kiss on the back of her hand. "I vill see you tomorrow, solnishko."

She nodded, before walking up the steps, glancing back once to find him still standing there, waiting for her to disappear behind the pillars. She smiled one last time, waving at him, before retiring for the night.

* * *

On Boxing Day, the Slytherin girls woke up to aching feet and happy hearts.

Daphne was practically singing as she made her bed, giving away the fact that it had been a good night for her. Tracey Davis, too, was up and smiling brightly. It seemed that Pansy, though, had had a terrible night. She was still snoring loudly on her bed, tossing and turning every now and then.

The Great Hall was not unexpectedly empty when they walked in for breakfast, save for a few early risers milling about. Hermione and Daphne exchanged stories of their night. Daphne giggled every few minutes, pausing her story before continuing again. When it was Hermione's turn, the blonde would not stop squealing.

"How was the kiss? Was he any good? Did you have to stand on your tiptoes?" The questions went on and on until breakfast was over.

"I have to go to the library." Hermione said, getting up.

"Viktor waiting?" Daphne asked, wagging her eyebrows.

"Yes, but not like that." Hermione said, slapping her friend lightly on the arm, "He just watches me study."

"He's practically perfect for you." the witch joked as Hermione left.

* * *

The first day of the new term had arrived quicker than anyone had expected, Hermione set off for lessons, carrying with her all the homework that had been assigned over the break. Snow was still thick upon the grounds, and the greenhouse windows were covered in condensation so thick that they couldn't see out of them in Herbology. Nobody was looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures much in this weather, especially having to face the blast-ended skrewts.

When the Slytherins arrived at groundskeeper's cabin however, they found an elderly witch with closely cropped gray hair and a very prominent chin standing before his front door. "My name is Professor Grubbly-Plank," she said briskly. "I am your temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher."

They weren't surprised. they had all read — heard really, since Draco had not shut up about it during breakfast (Draco seemed to be in brighter spirits these days) — the article Rita Skeeter had put out that morning about the man's _unfortunate_ lineage.

Draco was practically brimming with excitement at the chance to rub it in Potter and his friends' faces. The moment he heard Weasley talking about the half-giant, he pounced.

"Oh he hasn't been attacked, Potter, if that's what you're thinking," said Draco softly. "No, he's just too ashamed to show his big, ugly face."

"What d'you mean?" said Potter sharply.

Draco put his hand inside the pocket of his robes and pulled out a folded page of newsprint. "There you go," he said. "Hate to break it to you, Potter. . . ." The Gryffindor snatched the article from Draco, growing redder every line her read. The minute they started arguing, Hermione left to observe the unicorn that Grubbly-Plank had brought in for them.

"I hope she stays." Hermione thought aloud, after they had been dismissed. "That was the most pleasant Care of Magical Creatures lesson we've ever had."

She walked up to the castle after class, her friends trailing behind he. They had noticed that lately, the curly haired witch had been smiling more, and had an easy-going aura surrounding her, which was very much unlike her. They attributed this change to the presence of a certain Bulgarian, who was coincidentally also the reason why Hermione was spending more and more time in the library than anywhere else.

But Viktor was only partially to be thanked for Hermione's change in attitude. They didn't know that a weight had been taken off her chest ever since Draco had begun talking to her again, although he still seemed to be quick to changed the subject whenever Viktor was involved. She was also doing fairly well with her classes, as well as her extra lessons with Snape. Recently, he had even begun invading her mind during Potions classes to try and catch her unaware. But whenever Hermione would feel the familiar pin prick at the back of her mind, she would close herself off entirely.

Hermione spent her days either with Viktor, or her friends, and her nights meditating. Hogsmeade weekends were occupied almost entirely by Daphne, although she went once with her Bulgarian just to show him around.

Word spread quickly through the school after the Yule Ball that apparently Hermione wasn't _just_ a date to the star Seeker, much to the disappointment of his fans. After a few weeks of receiving hateful glares everywhere she went, eventually, the whispers subsided, and she was left alone to do as she pleased.

When Viktor asked for her help a week into February, she was more than happy to do so. He had learned quickly that she was more adept at magic than he originally thought. For the second task, Karkaroff had given him a specific assignment to work on, which technically was cheating, but Hermione too, would do anything to win. She highly suspected that had Karkaroff gone to Hogwarts, he would have been sorted into Slytherin.

It was a tricky bit of transfiguration that he needed to perfect — a shark head incantation that would allow him to breathe under water. They practiced together on the nights she meditated. He would meditate alongside her for about half an hour or so, and then she would help him with the spell.

Hermione didn't know exactly why Viktor needed to turn himself into a shark, he hadn't divulged much information about the requirements of the second task to her, but was happy to help nonetheless, looking at it as payment for his meditation lessons.

Sometimes, they would lie on the bank of the lake together as they dried off from practicing in the lake. She would prop her head on his shoulder, and he would hold her in a warm embrace, the two braving the cold wind together under the light of the moon, although Hermione cast about a dozen heating charms before doing so.

"Promise me you'll take care of yourself during the second task." she said during one of these nights. The trial was looming closer, and her anxiety was beginning to build once again.

"I promise, solnishko." he said, placing a kiss on top of her head.

"I was worried half to death when you were facing off the dragon." she admitted.

"I did not know that vas how you felt." he said. She could hear the smile in his voice.

"You looked terrible when I came to see you in the tents." she teased lightly. His arm wrapped around her tighter.

"It vas not one of my proudest moments." he said, chuckling, "I did not know you ver coming. Had I known, I vould have put on a brave face. It is not a pleasant feeling to have the girl you like see you so weak."

She laughed at his admission, her cheeks flushing brightly. Hermione wondered how long it would be like this, how long this feeling of bliss would remain before her bubble was popped and she was once again brought back to reality. She hoped the time would never come, but Hermione knew better than to hope. All she could do was lock the memories and there feelings in her heart for a rainy day.

* * *

The evening of the second task found Hermione finishing up a paper on Shield Charms. Viktor had left earlier to get a good night's rest — Karkaroff's orders. Just as she was writing the final details on her parchment, someone tapped her lightly on the shoulder.

She turned to find Fred Weasley grinning behind her.

"Hello," she said, it was the first time she had spoken to him in years, "May I help you?"

"McGonagall's looking for you." the redhead informed her.

"Why?" she asked.

"Dunno… she was looking a bit grim though." said Fred, "I'm supposed to take you to her office."

Still confused, she began packing away her things, following the boy out the library.

"How've you been, mademoiselle?" said the boy as they walked.

"Alright, I think." she said awkwardly. "And you?"

"Same, I reckon." he said, "My brother hates you, did you know?"

"I've been told." she said, smirking. "And you? Do you hate me?"

"Well, if the stories are true, I reckon I should." he said breezily, "But I believe you're innocent until proven guilty."

Hermione laughed lightly, although deep inside, she wondered just how much Potter and his friends had been speculating about her and the rest of the Slytherins.

They arrived at the Professor's office after a few minutes.

"My job here is done." said the Weasley. "I hope you remain innocent, mademoiselle."

"I hope so too." she replied, before the doors closed.

"Ah, Miss Dagworth-Granger, there you are." said McGonagall as she approached. "Sit, I have something that needs your approval."

She took a seat in one of the wing backed chairs facing the professor's desk.

"As you know, the second take is tomorrow. The champions have been given instructions on what they are to do. Your assistance is required highly required for the task to proceed."

"I'm sorry, Professor, I don't follow." she said.

"The champions have been given instructions to find something that they will sorely miss. In Mr Krum's case, that is you."

"Me?" she echoed. "What am I supposed to be doing?"

"You shall be put into a deep sleep and dropped into the Black Lake." said the woman.

"I sincerely hope you're joking, Professor." she said uneasily.

"I am sorry to say that I'm not, Miss Dagworth-Granger. But, you will be perfectly safe. The merpeople have agreed to protect you, and there will be absolutely no chance of you drowning."

"This school is insane." she muttered under her breath.

"I have to agree with you on that." said McGonagall.

"Alright then," Hermione said, "Do what you have to do."

* * *

The next thing she knew, she was gasping for breath, in the middle of the Black Lake, freezing cold and clinging to Viktor for dear life. His shark head charm had faded the moment they broke out of the water, to her relief. She didn't quite fancy waking up to a shark staring back at her.

Once she was on dry land again, someone quickly wrapped her in a warm towel and cast drying charms to prevent hypothermia.

Viktor embraced her tightly once he too was warmed up. "I'm sorry for that, solnishko." he said in her ear.

"You bloody well should be." she said, only half joking, "Is that what I get for being the thing you'll sorely miss? Freezing water and a swim with the giant squid?"

"I vill make it up to you." he promised.

"How so?" she asked. The couple were totally oblivious to their surroundings, not caring about the score Viktor had received, or the load applause from the crowd.

"Visit me in Bulgaria this summer," he said, dark eyes staring straight into her own, "I'll make it up to you then."

Her heart beat quickened, and her breath caught in her throat. "I'll think about it." she said finally.

* * *

Viktor's proposition was on her mind day and night. He hadn't been joking when he had asked her to visit him in his family home, and she wasn't taking it lightly. Hermione knew exactly what it meant for a pureblood witch to be brought home to a man's parents and introduced, and it was just like Viktor to suggest a formal courtship in such an off handed way.

She had no idea what she should do. Her mother would throw a fit if she knew Hermione had somehow been seeing someone the past two months, let alone someone who was known around the world. The thought of her parents' reactions only troubled her further. She spent much of her time worrying, thinking of possible ways to addressing the dilemma with everyone happy in the end.

Hermione knew that she was acting a little different, but other people were beginning to notice, most of all Snape, who still spent two nights a week trying to access her mind. One night, after spending a few moments with Viktor in the library, her worries were exceptionally bothersome.

She didn't notice when Snape recovered from his last attack, shooting another spell at her. She started defending herself too late. The professor quickly slipped through her mind, the first time he had done so in a few weeks.

Memories flitted past behind her eyes, all seemingly identical. Images of Viktor flew past, his face looking down at her the night of the Yule ball, him helping her meditation, being wrapped in his arms after the second task. She shouted, the feeling of her thoughts being invaded unsettling her.

 _"Expelliarmus!"_ she yelled, blasting the Professor out of her thoughts. When she came to her senses, Snape was glaring at her maliciously.

"Something on your mind, Miss Daggworth-Granger?" he asked, beady eyes boring right through her.

"No, Professor." she said, turning her head away from his gaze.

"It seems as if your relationship with Viktor Krum has progressed quite well over the past few weeks." the man said, as if pointing out a fact.

"That has nothing to do with —"

"It certainly does, child." said Snape. "Have you, at least once, stopped to wonder what would happen if, let's say, the Dark Lord was _displeased_ with you, entered your thoughts, trying to find the face of the person you cared for most in the world so that he could in turn, hurt you?"

Hermione's insides filled with a very heavy feeling of dread.

"The Dark Lord has certain ways of punishing those who displease him." said Snape coldly. "He likes to have fun doing it. I would bet a significant amount of money that he would very much enjoy hurting Mr Krum if it allowed him to hurt you."

She choked back a sob, "I didn't think—"

"No, you didn't, did you?" snapped Snape. "Listen well, girl. You have a mission. Infiltrate the Dark Lord's ranks and pass information from within to the Order of the Phoenix. This has been clear since the day you stepped into this room. Any sort of distraction will only worsen your chances of survival, that's counting the lives of those around you, too.

"I suggest that you cease adding more a people to the list the Dark Lord will have of the people he may use to hurt you, and I suggest you do it quick. It is not easy to lose someone you love to him."

Snape had a haunted look in his eyes that suggested he was remembering something unpleasant in his past. Hermione wondered who it was that Snape had lost. The Professor's words had left her feeling nauseous and empty. She could not believe how selfish she was. If things progressed with Viktor, she would have to drag him into the mess that she had gotten herself into, and she didn't need to watch over another person.

Snape dismissed Hermione shortly after, sending her to bed. She fell asleep quickly, exhaustion taking over her. But her dreams were filled with the faceless figure of You-Know-Who standing over the body of Viktor Krum, his evil laugh ringing in her ears.

—

Amidst the flurry of emotions that was raging inside Hermione, she also had to deal with the appearance of a certain uncle of hers in Hogsmeade sometime in March. He had written her in a hastily scribbled note that he was visiting Harry, and was staying at the Hog's Head over Hogsmeade weekend.

On Sunday, March 12th, Hermione excused herself from her friends as they walked around the small town to meet her uncle. She couldn't fathom why exactly Sirius had chosen to stay at the Hog's Head, it was a sketchy little pub that offered overnight accommodations on the outskirts of the town. Sirius could have easily booked a room at the Three Broomsticks, which was certainly much cleaner than his current accommodations.

"Have you met with Potter?" Hermione asked, after embracing her uncle and taking a seat in one of the booths.

"Yes, I saw him yesterday. He hasn't been doing quite well." said the man, frowning. "You need to watch yourself these days, Hermione. Something's going on inside Hogwarts, but I can't say what exactly. Everything going on with Crouch, and with Karkaroff being there, it leaves a bad taste in my mouth."

"Yes, uncle." she said. "How have you been?"

"I've been doing well." Sirius said, smiling. "I've been in contact with Dumbledore about you for the entire year. It seems like your lessons with Snivellus are going well."

"I've basically mastered Occlumency now." she said. "Although the other night…"

"What happened?" asked Sirius, his brow raised in alarm.

"Uncle, can I ask you something?" she said suddenly.

"Anything, child." the man said.

"Snape told me that the Dark Lord likes to punish his followers when he's especially angry by hitting them where it hurts the most. Is that true?" she asked. Sirius sighed resignedly.

"Hermione, if you're worried about your parents and Uncle Alphard, you have nothing to worry about. The manor in France is completely safe, and very very hidden." Sirius said reassuringly.

"No — I don't mean them, although that's good to know." she said, fighting the blush that was threatening to creep onto her face. "Recently, I've begun seeing someone."

"Ah, Viktor Krum, isn't it?" said her uncle teasingly. "Harry told me."

"Well, yes." she said. "He asked me to visit his family in Bulgaria a few weeks ago."

"Already?" Sirius said, looking impressed, "My, my, you really must have gotten your talons into him, Mione."

"Shut it." glowered the girl. "I like him, Uncle, I really do, but I can't risk it. If anything happens to him because of me, or if my mission fails because I couldn't keep my heart out of my head, I'll regret it for life."

"I'm not exactly the ideal person to be sharing your feelings to, you know." Sirius said.

"Well, it's either you or Snape." Hermione snapped impatiently, making Sirius chuckle at the thought of Snape giving love advice.

"I know it's hard, Hermione, especially for someone so young." he said seriously, "But being born into a time of war requires you to make such sacrifices. It'll hurt, and you'll end up hurting him too, but he won't know that you're saving his life in the process. You can at least find solace that you're doing it for his sake."

"I shouldn't have gotten involved with him in the first place." she groaned.

"No one wants you to give up your childhood, Mione." Sirius said, "You should enjoy it while you can."

"It's so bloody _difficult_ , Uncle." she complained.

"I know, child. But this isn't even the worst of it."

* * *

a/n: I squeezed in the time for an update! Thank you for all the wonderful reviews on the previous chapter!


	32. Chapter 32 : Le Traître

**Chapter 32 : Le Traître**

Two months later and Hermione still hadn't said a word to Viktor about going to Bulgaria. She couldn't seem to bring herself to tell him that she couldn't. Although he seemed to be content in waiting for her answer as they spent their free time together.

It happened around mid-May. Hermione found herself worrying over Viktor, who had been stunned the day before in an incident involving a deranged Mr Crouch. Dumbledore had informed her that they were dealing with the situation, and that it was fortunate that Crouch, in his state, had not inflicted any harm on the young man.

The mystery that was Bartemius Crouch was perplexing Hermione, as well as those around her. His sudden appearance and drastic change had led them all into a state of confusion. She was coming to the conclusion that Mr Crouch had either attacked Viktor and ran away into the forest, or someone else attacked Viktor and abducted Crouch.

After the incident, Hermione noticed Potter and his two friends were showing up at the library regularly. Sometimes, they would cast looks her and Viktor's way, but that was the extent of their interaction, much to her relief. Viktor too, was spending more time researching than talking to her. He was quite offed about the fact that someone had snuck behind him and stunned him from behind. He'd been reading about counter courses and hexes for days.

She glanced at him over the large Arithmancy tome she was referencing. He moved his lips when he read, his mouth following the words as he went on. She wondered how he would react when she finally told him. He would probably get angry, she didn't have a very good explanation after all. She worried that he might think she had been leading him on. Viktor was too kind to her just to be hurt. It was this that kept her from ending things.

Giving out a small sigh, she turned her attention outside, the thoughts swirling in her head like a hurricane. She sighed again.

Suddenly, her hand, which had been resting on the table, was covered in another's. She turned to look at victor, surprised.

"Something is troubling you." he said, as if stating a fact.

"It's nothing." she smiled, "Don't mind me."

Viktor looked at her, his brow furrowed in worry, before returning back to his book.

She bit back another sigh. How could she ever hurt him?

* * *

The mood in the castle as they entered June became excited and tense again. Everyone was looking forward to the third task, which would take place a week before the end of term. Once more, the Weasley twins were collecting bets, and all four champions were busy honing their skills to the best of her abilities.

As the 24th of June drew closer, her nerves mounted. She knew that Viktor was more than prepared for the third task, but the third task, the maze, would undoubtedly be the most difficult of them all. Thinking back to the first twi tasks, she wondered what could possibly rival dragons and lake monsters.

Her concern over the task eclipsed even her exams, which, as usual, she breezed through easily, much to the annoyance of Daphne, who _'failed her way with flying colours.'_

When Viktor had approached her at breakfast wanting to introduce her to his parents who had traveled from Bulgaria to watch the final task, she hastily got to her feet, mumbling an excuse about needing to research something in the library before the History of Magic examination.

"Come _on_ , Hermione." Daphne said, tugging on her robes, just as Dumbledore rose from his seat during dinner.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now."

"Ugh, see? Now I don't have time to go to the loo." grumbled Daphne.

"Hold it in." urged Hermione, standing to make her way to the pitch. Before she left, she spared one last glance at Viktor, who was standing stiffly next to Ludo Bagman.

"Worried about him?" asked Theo, as the group of friends made their way through the growing crowd.

"A little." she admitted, biting her lip anxiously.

"Don't be." the boy smiled, "Everything's going to be fine."

"How are we supposed to see what's happening when the hedges are twenty feet tall?" complained Blaise loudly. "What do they expect us to do? Watch the grass grow?"

"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each — Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!" The cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky. "In second place, with eighty points — Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!" More applause. "And in third place — Miss Fleur Delacour, of

Beauxbatons Academy!"

"So . . . on my whistle, Harry and Cedric!" said Bagman. "Three — two — one —"

He gave a short blast on his whistle, and Potter and Diggory hurried forward into the maze. They disappeared from view almost immediately. Hermione had to agree with Blaise that the third task, although challenging for the champions, might pose to be quite a bore for the spectators.

Bagman whistles a second time, signaling Viktor's entrance into the maze. He hurtled forward, sprinting as if his life depended on it. On the next whistle went Fleur, who ran as fast as she could to catch up with the other champions.

"Now, we wait." said Theo, smirking in amusement at the stupidity of it all.

For around two hours, they waited restlessly, watching as sparks flew from inside the maze every now and then. About thirty minutes into the task, Fleur, for it was a girl's voice, had let out a bone-chilling scream, but no red sparks were released, so they all assumed she had beaten whatever had shocked her so badly. An hour passed, and they finally saw the red sparks indicating one of the champions' defeat. The teachers scurried to recover the champion, and Hermione was disappointed to see that it was Viktor, unconscious and being carried in a stretcher.

"This is boring." yawned Draco after another half hour, just as a loud bang sounded throughout the Quidditch pitch. The audience rose to their feet, trying to see what was happening. The crowd broke into applause, seeing that two figured had appeared sprawled on the ground. It looked to be Potter and Diggory, both seeming unconscious.

It wasn't until the teachers approached the two boys that Hermione saw Potter was breathing heavily. Dumbledore was crouched over him, inspecting his wounds. Minister Fudge was on the scene too, bending to check on Diggory, when —

"My god — Diggory!" he said, "Dumbledore — he's dead!"

The whispers spread through the crowd like wildfire. Something caught in Hermione's throat, causing her eyes to water. Next to her, Daphne was sobbing openly. The crowd was in hysterics, Cedric's parents were rushing to him, looking as if their world had fallen apart. She saw Potter being led off by Moody into the castle as Dumbledore tried to handle the situation.

All the while, Cedric Diggory's body lay on the grass, his unblinking eyes staring into nothingness.

* * *

The students were ushered into the castle quickly, ordered not to leave their rooms for the night. The guests were sent home, and the teachers were trying to calm everything down, but nothing could settle whatever it was that filled the castle.

The minute they got to the dormitories, Hermione made straight for the loo, vomiting her entire dinner out. She could hear the other girls' sobs through the bathroom door. Overtime she blinked she could see Cedric's eyes, one moment bright, mischievous, and offering her a drink, the next, lifeless and glassy.

She didn't leave the bathroom until her dorm mates quieted down into fitful slumbers. Hermione knew she wouldn't be able to get any sleep that night, so she laid in wait for something to happen.

It came some time after midnight. The enchanted letter fluttered through the door and onto her lap, but it was not from who she was expecting.

 _Come to the Astronomy Tower._

 _Sirius_

Of course her uncle was here, he was the only one who cared about Potter and knew enough to be here. If he was asking for her, then he had probably already finished talking to Potter. She threw on her robes and hurried to the tower. The halls of the castle seemed more haunted than usual, the silence was deafening.

Sirius was waiting for her when she arrived. He looked like hell. Lines of worry were imprinted on his face, and his mouth was twisted into a frown. She quickly threw herself into his arms, dissolving into tears.

"Shh." her uncle soothed, running a hand through her hair. He waited until her sobs ebbed, offering her a handkerchief to clean her face.

"What happened tonight?" she asked after a while, her voice was hoarse.

"Too much." said Sirius. "The Dark Lord has risen."

Hermione felt as if the weight on her shoulders was becoming heavier and heavier by the minute.

"He killed Diggory tonight. They were led into a trap assembled by Moody —"

"Moody?" Hermione said, shell-shocked.

"He was an imposter. His real identity is Barty Crouch Jr, he's a Death Eater who escaped Azkaban. He's been planning for this night the whole year. He made sure Harry was going to win, he _imperioused_ Krum to give Harry a better chance. It was all a giant plot to resurrect the Dark Lord."

"This is all one being nightmare turning into a reality." said Hermione emotionlessly.

"Dumbledore wanted me to tell you that you should be preparing more." Sirius said, "His return will bring about many things. He will begin collecting new recruits soon. You have to be one of them."

"How do I do that?" Hermione asked.

"We aren't sure yet. We're waiting for Him to make the first move. You'll continue training with me over the summer until we know how to integrate you into their ranks. You'll have to do a fair bit of acting. It isn't a secret that Uncle Alphard wanted nothing to do with Voldemort during the war. I'll teach you how to act like your Aunt Bella."

Hermione merely nodded in response.

"It's alright to be afraid, you know." Sirius said.

"I'm not afraid." Hermione said stonily, "I'm angry."

Once again, Diggory's eyes flashed before her eyes, before being replaced by stormy grey orbs belonging to Draco Malfoy, then to the green ones owned by Theo Nott, and lastly, the dark eyes of Viktor Krum, who was currently resting from the effects of the Imperious curse.

Hermione was filled with a blinding surge of hate and rage, and she swore on Merlin, Morgana, and all the Founders that she would do what she could do help kill Lord Voldemort once and for all.

* * *

The night before the end of term, she sent her Patronus to the Durmstrang ship, which was till anchored in the Black Lake. Hermione waited patiently on the tree stump by the bank of the lake. Her heart was oddly still, and her mind completely blank. She had resigned herself to her fate, which was why she was here now.

He came a few moments later, dripping wet and looking weary. She sent a drying charm his way as he came to approach her. He didn't thank her. He took a seat next to her, the stump allowing the both of them to fit.

"You did not visit me." Viktor said, his tone was not accusatory.

"No, I did not." she said.

"Vy not?"

"I won't be visiting you in Bulgaria." Hermione said flatly.

At this, Viktor turned to face her. "Vy not?"

"I don't like you enough." she said.

"Vy are you lying?" he said, eyes narrowed at her.

"I'm not." she said.

"You are." he hissed. "Vat are you not telling me?"

"I'm telling you the truth." she said straight faced. She wouldn't look at him.

He took her face in his hands, forcing her to look his way. She shut her eyes tightly.

Forcefully, he brought his lips down on hers.

It wasn't a kiss. It was anything but. Kisses were sweet and soft and full of love. This was harsh and rough, a silent plea for her to understand. She could taste her tears on his lips.

Hermione wrenched herself away from his grasp. "I'm still not going." she said.

"Vy are you doing this?" asked Viktor, pleading for an explanation.

"We are at war, Viktor." she said stonily.

"That does not involve us." he said, brushing her excuse aside.

"You're a fool if you believe that." she said, laughing cruelly.

"Vot does it matter?" he asked, "Ve are on the same side of the war."

"No, we're not." she admitted.

His reaction was instantaneous. He jerked away from her as if she had burned him. His eyes were dancing with confusion and hurt. "Vot are you saying?"

"We cannot be together, Viktor." she said, her voice falling flat.

"Vas it all a lie?" he asked, the sound of his voice breaking her heart.

"No." she admitted finally. "I would have liked to fallen in love with you."

"You are cruel." Viktor spat. "Harry Potter varned me about you, but I did not listen."

"You should have." Hermione said, getting to her feet.

"Goodbye, Viktor."

She never heard his reply. Hermione disappeared back into the castle silently. As the candle light casting shadows along the halls, her own could be seen as she walked past, her face wet with tears as she choked back her sobs.


	33. Chapter 33 : Sorcière Méchante

**Chapter 33 : Sorcière Méchante**

"Again!" yelled Sirius, from the otherside of the library. Hermione pulled herself up from the ground, clutching the arm her uncle had hit with a Stinging Hex. She threw a Reductor Curse at him, missing just by a centimeter. "You've go to do better than that!"

She yelled in frustration, no matter how many curses she threw at him, he was still worlds better than she was. Hermione was panting with exertion, her hair was falling out of her pony tail and her body ached all around. She dodged an Expulso Curse that came flying towards her, it hit a sofa, and the library was suddenly covered in cotton and pieces of furniture.

 _"Petrificus Totalus!"_ she screeched, pointing directly at Sirius' head. It hit it's mark. Her uncle fell to the ground with a thud.

Hermione stood, brushing off her robes and tried to catch her breath. "Twenty-nine minutes seven seconds." she groaned, checking the time. The two had a bet going that she couldn't beat him in under twenty five.

"Cough it up." Sirius croaked, once she had released him from the spell. She begrudgingly handed over a handful of galleons to him.

"Good work on working the Slicing Jinx into the Petrificus." Sirius said, holding a piece of cloth to his bleeding cheek.

"It should have caused more damage." she said, frowning as he worked on healing her cuts and bruises.

"We're only trying to hurt, not _kill_ , Mione, in case you've forgotten." Sirius grumbled.

"I don't understand why I can't beat you outright." she pouted.

"You forget you're only fifteen." her uncle said, "I've had years of practice. It takes a while to move fluidly when dueling."

"I'm turning sixteen in two months." she said, "Anyways, don't you think we should fix up the library."

"I'm sincerely hoping you do." came a voice from the door.

Her grandfather stood there, observing the two of them, his eyes sweeping over the carnage they had caused. "That was my favorite couch, too."

"Nothing I can't fix." Sirius brushed off.

"Hermione, your mother told me to have you prepare for dinner. Hurry now child, wouldn't want her to see you like this." Alphard said,

"It's only half past five." Hermione groaned, but obeyed nonetheless.

"So I'm going to have to clean up this mess by myself, aren't I?" said Sirius, glaring at his uncle.

"Mimi will do it." Alphard said, as soon as Hermione was out of earshot. "Something's happened, nephew."

When Hermione joined her family for dinner, in a dress that covered her arms because bruises had started blooming along them, she found the chair in front of her was left empty.

"Where's Uncle Sirius?" she asked, sitting down.

"He's in an urgent meeting in London." her grandpere said, with a look that meant it was Order business.

"You must be glad that you have Sirius to take care of all your meetings and business deals these days, Alphard." her father said, totally oblivious to what was happening behind his back.

"Yes, quite. It's as if a weight has been lifted off my shoulders." Alphard said, eyes twinkling knowingly.

They had been keeping their involvement with Dumbledore and his Order of the Phoenix a secret from her parents. Their trips to headquarters disguised as meetings and her training as extra lessons. But although Sirius was made known to the Order as an official member, Alphard kept his assistance a secret. Hermione's true loyalties, too, were hidden from the rest of the Order. After a while, Sirius would leave Paris to live at Grimmauld Place, the present headquarters, to alleviate the chances of Hermione's secret being known.

The past month, she had been working with both Sirius and her grandfather to hone her fighting skills and capability of resisting the Imperius curse. She had also started acting _'like a pureblood chit'_ as Sirius put it. She was beginning to stick her nose up in the air more, like her mother did when walking amongst Muggles, and she had added a whole list of insults in her vocabulary towards half-bloods and _'Mudbloods'_.

Everything had been going smoothly for them so far. The Dark Lord had been keeping quiet ever since the third task, which both relieved and unsettled them. She herself wondered what the man had planned for them.

"Why did Sirius have to leave so suddenly?" she asked after dinner.

"Potter's been attacked by a dementor." her grandfather said, "The Order is fetching him tonight and bringing him to Grimmauld Place."

"Already?' she asked, brows raised in surprise, "but that issn't supposed to happen for two more weeks."

"Dumbledore's decided that the risk is too great." said Alphard. "Sirius will be staying in London from now until the end of the summer."

"What about my training?"

"You'll be training with me." he said.

"Grandfather, are you sure?" she asked hesitantly.

"We'll be working with your Unforgivables. Your dueling is good enough for now."

Hermione sighed. Three weeks of resisting being Imperiused and making insects squirm. How nice.

* * *

"You seem different." Daphne said, looking her up and down as the two waited to board the Hogwarts Express.

"How so?" Hermione asked, looking around for the rest of her friends.

"I'm not sure. You just feel odd." she said.

"You might be imagining things. Hermione said, spying a mop of carefully coiffed dark hair. Blaise Zabini caught sight of her and made his way toward the two witches with a grin on his face.

"Good morning, ladies." he said, throwing an arm over Daphne. "Missed me?"

"You wish, Zabini." Daphne said, rolling her eyes. "Oh, hello Theo!"

"Morning." the boy said, walking up to them. "How was your summer?"

The group exchanged stories, waiting for the rest of their friends to show up. After a while, Draco was the only one missing from the Slytherins.

"There he is." Hermione said, scanning the crowd. He had grown taller over the summer, almost as tall as his father, who was walking next to him along with his mother.

"Good morning, Lord Malfoy, Lady Malfoy." she said, inclining her head politely.

"Good morning, my dear." said Narcissa, smiling at the girl's manners.

"Hello, Hermione." smiled Lucius. There was a glint in his eyes that left her with a feeling of unease.

The students filed into the train, looking for an empty carriage.

"How was your summer, Draco?" she asked the boy once they had settled down.

"It was fine. My father's been busy lately, so I didn't see much of him."

"Oh? Busy with what?" Hermione asked, feigning innocence. Draco smirked at her knowingly.

"There's been a change of management involving my father's businesses. His new employer is eager to change a lot of how things work in the company."

"That's one way to put it." said Theo, "I didn't see my father all summer either."

"How exciting." Hermione said, wryly, earning a devious grin from Draco.

"My father's been saying that I'm nearing the age of when I can begin participating in business affairs, after this year I'll be able to join him." he said.

"Funny, my father said the same thing as well." Theo said, a brow raised in amusement.

"He asked me if you would be interested in an internship too, Hermione. He knows how hardworking you are." said Draco.

"Why would Hermione need to work?" asked Pansy ignorantly, "She doesn't have to lift a finger for the rest of her life."

"I don't _need_ to." Hermione agreed, "But if my skills are needed and can be put to use, I'd gladly lend my assistance to Lord Malfoy."

"You should really focus on other things you know." Pansy said, "The Ladies Auxillary —"

"Some people have better things planned in life than joining the Auxillary and having tea parties, Pansy." Hermione said, shutting the girl up effectively.

"Have you met your father's new employer, Draco?" she asked.

"Not yet. Father says that he wants to stay out of the spotlight, for the meantime he's building a stronger infrastructure for the company. When his plans have fallen through, he will make his presence known." Draco said.

"Interesting." she said, "He sounds like a smart man."

"Of course. He's very powerful too."

"I don't doubt that he is." said Hermione, the gears turning in her head.

* * *

The only thing interesting that happened during the Welcoming Feast was the introduction of their new Defense of the Dark Arts professor and the Sorting Hat's song. At the end of the song, it seemed as though the Slytherins were the main focus of a certain group of Gryffindor boys. They were staring daggers at them, making Hermione feel only slightly comfortable.

It was no secret that their group had a theory that the Slytherins were eventually going to be Death Eaters. She couldn't disagree really, but she felt as if Potter was holding his tongue every time he was talking to her. Maybe it was because of Sirius' influence.

Her uncle had said that if they wanted to people to believe her act, she would have to break all ties with him, which she would do through the year, speaking badly of Sirius, especially when Potter was around. She couldn't say that she wasn't at least a little bit happy about annoying the Chosen One and his friends. The sadist in her was enjoying the situation entirely too much to be honest.

"Hem, hem," Dolores Umbridge, interrupting Dumbledore mid-speech. Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat back down smartly and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk.

Hermione's brow rose, her interest piqued at the toad-like woman. "Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge simpered, "for those kind words of welcome."

Next to her, she heard muffled snickers coming from Draco. On the train, he had informed them all that Dolores Umbridge wasn't at Hogwarts to teach. She was there to put Dumbledore on a leash. His words only made Hermione wonder how on earth someone could expect to do that with someone like their headmaster.

It seemed as though Umbridge planned to bore them to sleep though. She droned on with her speech, talking until the candles around the room had lessened significantly in height.

"I can't wait to see what the Headmaster's planning to do about her." Hermione said, as the group made their way to the dungeons.

"What can he do?" said Draco. "The Ministry'll crush him if he tries anything. After last year, people don't think it's safe at Hogwarts anymore. They think the Dumbledore's off his rocker."

"He's always been off his rocker." interjected Blaise. "I think he's actually lost it now though."

"Draco, weren't you supposed to show the first years where to go?" asked Hermione.

"Oh, right." frowned the boy, "I'll get Pansy. See you back in the common room."

"I still can't believe how Pansy was chosen over you for Prefect, Mione." said Theo.

"I asked Professor Snape not to pick me." she said, with a dismissing wave, "I want to focus on my studies. I don't want to waste time taking points off the other Houses."

"You're still taking advanced classes this year, then?" asked Theo.

"Yes, two nights a week." she said, nodding.

"Don't know how you stand doing more classes." muttered Blaise.

"Unlike you, Zabini, I have ambitions in life." she said.

"Oi, I have ambitions." he said defensively.

"Vacationing in the Bahamas for the rest of your life isn't an ambition, it's a retirement plan." she countered, making Theo chuckle.

"It's too early to be thinking about those things anyway. It's only our OWL year after all." Blasie said.

"It isn't too early. You never know what might happen." she said

* * *

Hermione always knew exactly when she had to shut up. She never missed the chance to voice her opinions, but in certain situations, it was best if nothing was said at all.

This was the case with Professor Umbridge during the first Defense of the Dark Arts class of the year. She was already seated primly at her desk in her horrid pink cardigan when they arrived from Potions, twiddling her fingers as she waited for them to settle down.

"Well, good afternoon!" she said when finally the whole class had sat down.

A few people mumbled "Good afternoon," in reply.

"Tut, tut," said Professor Umbridge. "That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," they chanted back at her.

"There, now," said Professor Umbridge sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."

"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" stated Professor Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L. year.

"You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theorycentered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please."

Hermione was practically seething in impatience as the class ended. Dolores Umbridge was a power hungry half-wit hell-bent on making this year the worst of their lives. If Hermione hadn't already mastered everything on the previous course outline, she would have been marching up to Dumbledore to demand a replacement teacher.

"She doesn't want us practicing magic _at all?"_ Hermione hissed. "We might as well be Muggles then."

"How am I going to pass my OWLs?" wailed Daphne.

"She's out of her mind." Hermione said. "But she's dangerous."

"How so?" asked her friend.

"The Ministry sent her here for a reason." she said. "And when the Ministry wants something done, it gets done."

* * *

The fifth year students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was current drowning in a sea of coursework. Hermione alone had twenty five feet of essays in total to finish in one week, as well as revision for numerous tests.

She finished her work quietly, observing her friends as they suffered through various breakdowns trying to cope with the amount of work to do. Daphne most of all, was the loudest to complain. Because of her classes, the witch had been forced to sacrifice precious time in the morning for much needed sleep. Her hair was no longer combed into elaborate braids, and neither did she spend thirty minutes in the bath to religiously follow her skincare routine.

"I find your annoyance with the disruption of your beauty routine over your studies amusing and unsettling at the same time." Hermione mused, glancing over her book at the miserable girl, who was glaring angrily at a lock of hair that fell limply on her palm.

"Hermione," someone called from somewhere in the library.

"Oh, Theo, I didn't know you were here." she said, smiling.

"I just arrived. Do you mind if I sit?"

"No, sit, please." she said. The library was rather full of students these days, most of them fifth and seventh years keen on getting their readings done. "By the way, there was an article on your Uncle today in the Daily Prophet."

Hermione glanced out of the corner of her eye discreetly, Potter and his friends were seated at the next table over, faces buried in books, though she knew that they were straining to listen.

"Sirius has broken all ties with our family." she said cooly. "My Muggle loving uncle moved out as soon as Grandfather signed over the deed to the house and access to one of the Black vaults. I do not wish too be involved with him any longer. He's a blood traitor and a sorry excuse for a Black."

Surprise flashed before both Daphne and Theo's eyes at her harsh words, but the steely look in Hermione's eyes kept them from asking questions. Hermione heard the scraping of a chair against the floor from the table nearest to them. She turned slowly, knowing exactly what to expect.

Potter had stood from his chair, and was glaring at her furiously, his hands clenched in fists at his side. Both his friends stood with him, trying to calm him down.

"What's the matter, Potter?" Hermione smirked. "Hear something you didn't like?"

"You're heartless and cruel and vile." Potter spat. "You were lucky to have Sirius as an uncle, and he was burdened to have you as a niece."

Hermione yawned, covering her mouth daintily with her hand. "Do you have anything more to say, or may I go back to my studying? It's a waste of time to be talking about that sad excuse for a man."

"Why you —" Potter brought his wand out, pointing it at her, but she was much much quicker. Her arm did not waver as she pointed her own wand at the Chosen One.

"Tut,tut, Potter." she tsked. "Violence isn't the answer to your anger issues, you know. I recommend a Mind Healer, Merlin knows you need it.

"Wand away, Potter. Before you do something you're going to regret." she said.

The boy lowered his wand begrudgingly, glancing at the entrance of the library to where Madam Pince was sorting through stack of books.

"You shouldn't run your mouth off where other people can hear you." Potter warned. "You might get hurt."

"Is that a threat?" she asked, laughing mockingly, "I can beat you in a duel any day, Potter."

"Do you want to challenge me?" he said.

"Please, I don't have time to waste on you either." she said.

"Harry can take you on." Weasley said, "Are you scared you're going to eat your words, snake?"

"No," Hermione said breezily, "I'm scared that I'll put the savior of the Wizarding World to shame."

"Hermione…" Theo said warningly.

"If he challenges you I'll be his second." Weasley stated.

"That's obvious." Hermione said scathingly, "You're always second to him anyways."

"That's it, Dagworth." snapped Potter. "I challenge you to a Wizard's Duel."

"How predictable." she said.

"Harry, are you sure —" Neville tried to say.

"Name your second." he snapped again, annoyed with how she was taking things so lightly.

"I refuse one." she said, ignoring the way Theo tried to catch her attention.

"You can't be that good." Weasley scoffed.

"Try me." she smirked.

"Be at the abandoned classroom on the third landing tonight at ten o'clock." said Potter.

She waved the off, seeming disinterested. "Very well, then."

When the Gryffindors left, stomping out of the library angrily, her friends turned to her with matching looks of worry painted on their faces.

"Hermione, are you sure?" asked Daphne.

"I wouldn't have agreed if I knew I couldn't beat them." she said.

"Mione, Potter dealt with the Dark Lord last year, you don't know what he's capable of doing." Theo said, brows coming together in frustration at his friend's stubbornness.

"He doesn't know what I'm capable of either." she said plainly, picking up her quill to finish off the Arithmancy essay in front of her.

* * *

a/n: does anyone else find the Order of the Phoenix to be the most boring HP book in the series? I seriously thought of skipping through the book entirely.


	34. Chapter 34 : Turncoat

**Chapter 34 : Turncoat**

The common room was silent, the green flames from the fire were casting eerie shadows along the walls, glowing against the black cloak she had on that covered her face. Just as she was about to enter the passage, someone coughed from behind her.

"Going somewhere?" he drawled.

"I have Advanced Lessons." she lied, refusing to turn and face him.

"Liar." he accused, footsteps sounded on the stone floor, "Theo told me about a certain duel happening tonight."

"Go back to bed, Draco." she said flatly.

"No." he said. "You need a second, I hear."

"I already said I didn't need one." she snapped, facing him.

"I never knew you to be arrogant." he said, raising a brow.

"It's not arrogance it's confidence."

"It won't do you any harm if I came to watch."

"Fine." she snapped waspishly, "Do what you want, just don't get in my way."

"Never, my lady." he drawled, moving to follow her.

"I can hear you doubting me." she muttered as the walked alongside each other.

"I didn't say anything." he said defensively.

"You were thinking it."

He shrugged his shoulders, not denying her accusation.

"I'm sure you're going to win the duel." he admitted. "I just don't understand why you're doing this."

"Potter needs to be taken down a notch." she said, hopping over a false step.

"Agreed." said Draco. "But why the sudden hatred for golden boy?

"Let's just say I've had an epiphany." she said, "Now be quiet."

At five minutes to ten o'clock, they were waiting for the Gryffindors to show up in the classroom. Because it hadn't been used for years, the room was empty, save for a few chairs. Moonlight shone in from a window, filling the room with a pale glow. Lighting a charm would only draw attention to the supposedly abandoned room. Hermione had placed a few _'Muffliatos',_ a spell Professor Snape had taught her, to keep the sound in.

"What's that ferret doing here?"

Hermione turned to find the boys they had been waiting for standing by the door. Neville kept glancing behind his back, looking as if the whole idea of being out after curfew making him uneasy.

"I'd never turn down free entertainment, Weasel." Draco sneered.

"Draco won't do anything. I'll vouch for him." Hermione said, crossing a finger over her heart.

"Can we get this over with?" Neville squeaked. "I don't quite like the thought of Filch catching us."

"Ready to eat you words, Dagworth?" said Potter.

She merely smirked at him.

Potter took his bow too far, Hermione only went as much as considered fair before throwing her first spell.

The Stinging Hex caught Potter on the shoulder, making him wince in surprise. _"Expelliarmus!"_ he yealled.

Hermione stepped out of the way, shouting _"Flippendo!"_ and succeeding in knocking him back two meters from where he stood.

"Come on, Harry!" yelled Weasley from the sides.

He shot a Jelly Legs Curse at him, making her laugh as she stepped aside, in return she sent a Tickling Jinx, causing him to erupt in a peal of laughter.

"Stop playing with your food, Hermione." Draco called from somewhere near her.

She nodded absently, and began twisting a Petrificus Totalus with a Slicing Hex. Potter tried to trip her with a hex, succeeding only in making her stumble.

 _"Petrificus Totalus!"_ she shouted.

Potter fell to the floor with a loud thump, she could see a trickle of blood run down the side of his face. Weasley and Longbottom rushed to help their friend up. Weasley was glaring at her furiously.

"I'll give you the chance to yield now, Weasel," she said, twirling her wand lazily, "before you get hurt."

"Bring it on, bitch." he snarled, taking his stance.

He had learned from Potter's mistake, coming up from the bow almost immediately. He sent her an angry Exploding Curse, which she blocked with a quick Shield Charm.

"You've got to do better than that, Weasley." she taunted.

 _"Furnunculus!"_ he shouted. She dodged it easily, shooting a " _Glacius Tria!"_ at his feet. His toes to his knees were immediately encapsulated in a layer of ice, stopping him from moving.

He tried Stunning her, all the while frustratedly pulling at his legs. The ice, however, was too thick to break through.

" _Langlock."_ she said, shutting him up forcefully.

"I hope you've learned your lesson." she said, walking towards the redhead menacingly. "I am not someone you can push around, Weasel, neither am I someone you want to anger. I can do much more than what I did tonight, if you don't want to find out how much, then you wont cross me again."

He glared at her angrily, unable to form a reply.

 _"Petrificus Totalus."_ she whispered, chanting the same spell she had cast on Potter. A thin red line appeared on the boy's cheek, dripping a thin stream of blood. She quite enjoyed the effects of her own crafty little spell.

"Let's go, Draco." she said, turning for the door. "Longbottom, don't try to unfreeze him with fire, you might burn his leg off.

"Actually, do try it, it would be interesting to see the results." she added, after a moment.

"You can be bloody terrifying sometimes." Draco said as they made their way back down to the dungeons.

"It's a gift." she said, smirking at the blonde, who was grinning at her happily.

In her mind, she was rejoicing at the fact that she had succeeded in the first step of the plan. Lose the Gryffindors' trust, and earn all of Draco's that she didn't already have. She was positive that her friend would be writing home the next day to tell his father all about the exciting new development that had happened.

All the while, her heart was beating so loud in her chest that she hoped to Merlin he couldn't hear it.

* * *

"So she'll be sacking whoever she thinks is unfit for the job?" asked Theo, setting down the Prophet on the table.

"Most likely." Hermione said in between bites of toast as she tried to read the paper upside down. "Although I think it's a great idea, I wonder how she'll go about it."

"If that giant oaf were here, I bet he'd be the first to go." said Draco.

The Skytherins nodded in agreement, recounting the previous year's blast ended skrewts.

Potions class with the Gryffindors that day composed of being glared at by a banged up looking Potter and Weasley and a tired eyed Longbottom. She smirked as she passed their desks, reveling in the fact that they had been unable to fully heal the cuts on their faces she had caused.

Theo raised a brow at her in question, eying the two boys' injuries and the triumphant grins on both her and Draco's faces.

"I trust everything went according to your plan last night?" he said as they took their seats.

"Of course," she said arrogantly, "though it took quicker than I originally expected."

The conversation was silenced by the arrival of the black-clad Potions Master, looking dour faced as ever.

"I have awarded you the grades you would have received if you presented this work in your O.W.L," said Snape with a smirk, as he swept among them, passing back their homework. "This should give you a realistic idea of what to expect in your examination."

Hermione glanced at her paper quickly before turning it over, the perfect _'O'_ in the corner of her paper not coming as a shock to her. At the desk next to her, Draco was sniggering over some people getting D's, which seemed to garner a reaction out of both Potter and Weasley.

The rest of the day passed rather quickly, that is, until Defense of the Dark Arts. Umbridge had assigned them the task of reading Chapter 2, which once again, Hermione found rather annoying since she had already read the text cover the cover. She decided to busy herself with copying a few passages from the more difficult chapters rather than waste time rereading something so basic.

"Miss Dagworth-Granger," Umbridge called, rousing Hermione from her writing, "I don't believe I assigned a writing task."

"I've already read chapter two, Professor." she replied primly.

"Then proceed to the next chapter."

"I've read that as well, Professor. A well as the rest of the book." Hermione said, an undercurrent of snideness in her voice.

Umbridge blinked but recover her poise almost instantly. "Well, then, you should be able to tell me what Slinkhard says about counterjinxes in chapter fifteen."

"He says that counterjinxes are improperly named," said Hermione promptly. "He says 'counterjinx' is just a name people give their jinxes when they want to make them sound more acceptable."

Hermione knew that Umbridge's raised eyebrows meant that she had impressed the witch. She waited for Umbridge's response, choosing not to mention her opinion on Slinkhard's statement.

"Very well, Miss Dagworth-Granger, carry on." Umbridge said.

Hermione rolled her eyes as soon as the woman turned around, going back to her work. She reminded herself to bring a few extra pieces of parchment next time so that she could at least finish her homework during the class.

* * *

As Educational Decree after Educational Decree was made, and Umbridge became more and more ferocious in rule implementation, life at Hogwarts grew rather suffocating. For the Slytherins though, life went by rather easily.

It seemed that Professor Umbridge was rather prejudiced herself, and the snakes found that with the right amount of sweet talking and the mention of _"My father,"_ she caved in very quickly to their requests. Which was why Draco was currently boasting quite loudly so that everyone could hear, that the Slytherin Quidditch team had been given permission to carry on with their practices.

As Potter and his group approached, Draco waved his official notice around, making sure that he was heard. Hermione saw Potter try to snap at him, but was held back by Longbottom, who quickly urged his friend inside the Potions classroom.

"I mean," said Draco, raising his voice a little more, his gray eyes glittering malevolently, "if it's a question of influence with the Ministry, I don't think they've got much chance. . . . From what my father says, they've been looking for an excuse to sack Arthur Weasley for years. . . . And as for Potter . . . My father says it's a matter of time before the Ministry has him carted off to St. Mungo's. . . . apparently they've got a special ward for people whose brains have been addled by magic. . . ."

Draco made a grotesque face, his mouth sagging open and his eyes rolling. Vince and Greg roared with laughter, but Hermione frowned slightly at the tastelessness of the joke. Just when she was about to tell her friend to move on inside the classroom, Longbottom charged a Draco with a look that she had never seen on the boy's face before.

"Neville, no!"

Potter leapt forward, seizing the back of his friend's robes. Longbottom struggled frantically, his fists flailing, trying desperately to get at Draco who looked, for a moment, extremely shocked.

Potter and Weasley succeeded in dragging him back into the Gryffindor line. Longbottom's face was scarlet; the pressure Harry was exerting on his throat rendered him quite incomprehensible, but odd words spluttered from his mouth.

"Not. . . funny . . . don't . . . Mungo's . . . show . . . him . . ."

Hermione's chest filled with guilt, remembering Sirius' story of her Aunt Bellatrix's final act as a Death Eater.

"Come on, Draco." she said softly, moving past her friends. She lowered her head as she passed the Gryffindors, unable to look Longbottom in the eye.

Snape entered, closing the dungeon door behind him with a bang and everybody fell silent immediately

"You will notice," said Snape in his low, sneering voice, "that we have a guest with us today." He gestured toward the dim corner of the dungeon, and Hermione saw Professor Umbridge sitting there, clipboard on her knee.

"We are continuing with our Strengthening Solutions today, you will find your mixtures as you left them last lesson, if correctly made they should have matured well over the weekend — instructions" — he waved his wand again — "on the board. Carry on."

Hermione moved to inspect her potion, which had developed the correct shade of pale teal. She then proceeded to chop up her dried Griffin claw before mashing it with her mortar and pestle.

Professor Umbridge spent the first half hour of the lesson making notes in her corner, after, she made her rounds around the room, stopping to look over Hermione's progress once she had gotten to her station. Umbridge's appraisal of her potion meant next to nothing to her, thought the professor's faint grin of approval did cause her to smirk triumphantly.

She added the salamander blood to the mixture once the solution had heated up, stirring counter clockwise half a dozen times with an added half stir for a better consistency.

"Well, the class seems fairly advanced for their level," Umbridge said briskly to Snape's back. "Though I would question whether it is advisable to teach them a potion like the Strengthening Solution. I think the Ministry would prefer it if that was removed from the syllabus."

Snape stood up slowly from bending over Dean Thomas' cauldron, and turned to look at her.

"Now . . . how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" she asked, her quill poised over her clipboard. "Fourteen years," Snape replied. His expression was unfathomable.

"You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?" Professor Umbridge asked Snape.

"Yes," said Snape quietly.

"But you were unsuccessful?"

Snape's lip curled. "Obviously."

Hermione wondered if Umbridge knew she was crossing into dangerous territory here.

"And you have applied regularly for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?"

"Yes," said Snape quietly, barely moving his lips. He looked very angry.

"Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?" asked Umbridge.

"I suggest you ask him," said Snape jerkily.

"Oh I shall," said Professor Umbridge with a sweet smile.

"I suppose this is relevant?" Snape asked, his black eyes narrowed.

"Oh yes," said Professor Umbridge. "Yes, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of teachers' — er — backgrounds. . . ."

Hermione smirked at the expression on her mentor's face, hiding her face as Umbridge walked over to Pansy and began questioning her about the lessons.

After Hermione completed the final steps of the Strengthening Solution, she bottled and corked the royal blue, metallic smelling potion and handed it to the professor, who nodded upon being presented with her work.

"Lessons tonight, Miss Dagworth-Granger." he said under his breath. "Be sure that you are not seen by certain eyes."

She nodded, making her way back to her station as if nothing had happened.

* * *

"Nonverbal magic," Snape drawled, "is volatile and often difficult to perform. However, those who are capable of the craft are benefited with the upper hand in a duel. The opponent would only be able to discern the spell used once it had been cast, thus giving an advantage to the caster. When in a fight, it could also potentially save your life.

"Tongiht, the goal is to successfully cast a Shield Charm without the use of verbal incantations. You will have fifteen minutes to practice before I begin throwing spells at you. No mercy, as usual, Miss Dagworth-Granger, so be sure to focus."

Hermione was once again left to figure things out for herself. She practiced verbally at first, garnering a look of intrigue from Snape. From there, she lowered her voice gradually until it became less than a whisper. She didn't know if her tactic was going to work, but she tried none the less.

Just before her time was up, she swore she had created a proper shield charm, the tell tale dome of magic forming around her for just a split second before Snape told her to get ready.

He threw his firs spell at her quicker than she expected, the Stinging Jinx catching her in the stomach. His second spell hit her right shoulder.

Hermione winced, trying to focus on the spell. Her brows furrowed in concentration as she stood her ground amidst Snape's assault. _'Protego … protego… protego"_ she thought over and over again.

As Snape's eight spell grazed her ear, she cried out. Someohow, in her head, she heard herself scream.

 _"PROTEGO!"_

The spell was strong enough to deflect four of Snape's spells at once.

"Did I do it?" she asked, unsure whether or not she had said anything.

Snape nodded at her. "Again, this time, hold the spell longer."

They went on through the night, with her resisting and bearing the pain until she got it right.

* * *

Hermione practice her nonverbal magic any chance she got, soon becoming quite obsessed with doing everything without the use of the incantation. She had already succeeded in using the Silencing Charm, Shield Charm, and the Tripping Jinx nonverbally, much to the confusion of her friends, who suddenly found themselves unable to speak, blocked by an invisible force, or stumbling over thin air.

The next lesson with Professor Snape brought better results than the previous one, much to the Professor's relief. He ended the lesson quickly after she was able to disarm him nonverbally.

"Professor." she said, not leaving as soon as she was dismissed. "I was wondering how I was supposed to communicate with Dumbledore and the Order once I'm on the other side."

"The Headmaster is still working on a solution to that, Miss Dagworth-Granger. Of course, owls are out of the question, as are visits to Hogwarts."

"Sir, if you don't mind, I came up with a possible way." she said, digging around her pockets for the box she had hidden there.

Hermione placed a small jewelry box on top of the Professor's table, opening it to reveal a long silver necklace with a knut-sized pendant on the chain and a Sickle. On the coin, where inscriptions would have been on its side, it was blank. The pendant too, looked normal, save for the engraving of _Toujours Pur._

"They're enchanted, sir. I put a form of Protean Charm on them so that the message from one would be received on the other. On the coin, it would appear on the side, and on the pendant on the back. I would be wearing the pendant at all times, they're both charmed to heat up once a message is received so that there won't be any overlooking of messages."

Snape took the two silver items in his hands, inspecting them intently. "This is advanced work, Miss Dagworth-Granger." he said after a moment, "I'll be sure to present them to Dumbledore as soon as possible."

She nodded, happy that she had at least been acknowledged, and went on her way.


	35. Chapter 35 : Breakout

**Chapter 35 : Breakout**

As the first Quidditch match of the season drew nearer, they all saw less and less of Draco because the Slytherin Quidditch captain insisted on almost daily practices. Also absent from the group were Vince and Greg, who had replaced Bole and Derrick at tryouts in the beginning of the year.

Hermione was rather skeptical with how the game would turn out, the Gryffindors being themselves had a better chance of winning than they had, that was for sure. But she held a small torch of hope that somehow, the Slytherins' sly ways would give them the upper hand this match.

It seemed as the entire school eagerly awaited the beginning of Quidditch season, adding the fact that the school had not had a match in over a year. Maybe this was the reason was the reason why her House seemed to be taking things so seriously, or the fact that Weasley had somehow wrestled himself a spot in the Gryffindor Team. She found herself in the Slytherin commons on the night before the match, memorizing along with the rest of her house the silly little jingle a certain blonde had come up with to distract their competitors.

The next day, they, including a hesitant and sleepy looking Hermione, made their way through the castle, with their new _Weasley is our King_ badges stuck firmly on their robes. The entire table looked quite devious during breakfast, succeeding in catching the attention of a number of Gryffindors, who glared at them menacingly while eating their porridge.

Draco, Vince, and Greg stood after a while to follow the rest of the team into the changing rooms. Hermione smiled at the three, eyes locking on Draco as she said, "Good luck, Draco, and you Vince, Greg." When breakfast ended, they filed out of the castle onto the Quidditch pitch, fighting against the crowd to be able to get a good view of the match.

As Lee Jordan's commentary rang through the stadium, the Slytherin's jeers and boos quickly changed into chanting.

"— dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger — close call, Alicia — and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what's that they're singing?"

Jordan paused to listen, and they only sang louder, their voices crisp and clear throughout the pitch.

 _Weasley cannot save a thing,_

 _He cannot block a single ring,_

 _That's why Slytherins all sing:_

 _Weasley is our King._

 _Weasley was born in a bin,_

 _He always lets the Quaffle in,_

 _Weasley will make sure we win,_

 _Weasley is our King_

When Jordan made out the words to the song, he quickly returned to his commentary, raising his voice in hopes that he might be able to drown out the singing. "— so it's the first test for new Gryffindor Keeper, Weasley, brother of Beaters, Fred and George, and a promising new talent on the team — come on, Ron!"

The Slytherins roared in delight; Weasley had dived wildly, his arms wide, and the Quaffle had soared between them, straight through the central hoop.

 _WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN,_

 _HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN . . ._

"— and Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell tanking up the pitch —" cried Jordan valiantly, though the singing was now so deafening that he could hardly make himself heard above it.

 _WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN,_

 _WEASLEY IS OUR KING . . ._

They watched as the opposing team scrambled to compose themselves, the captain was screaming something to her teammates, her voice unable to reach Hermione's ears. Draco came whizzing past them, circling around the stadium in search for the snitch, it seemed as though he too, was singing along with the crowd. They cheered again, Weasley had allowed another point in, making the score 20-0, the cycle repeated two more times before Gryffindor finally scored against them.

 _WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN,_

 _HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN,_

 _WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN —_

Potter dove, and the Slytherins screamed in alarm. He had seen the snitch. In a matter of seconds, Draco was blazing after him, a green-and-silver blur to the left of Potter. The Snitch skirted the foot of one of the goal hoops and scooted off toward the other side of the stands; its change of direction suited Draco, who was nearer. He was now neck and neck with Potter,

Somehow, Potter burst forward with a jolt, his hand passing Draco's in a hair of a second, clamping around the golden ball. Then …. _WHAM!_

Hermione smirked. Greg had sent a blunger flying Potter's way in a last ditch attempt to save them, which of course hadn't worked, but the hit up the head lessened the sting of losing a little bit.

The players dismounted on the field, she could see Draco goading on Potter, trying to elicit a reaction or probably pick a fight. Something he said struck home. Potter was holding back one of the Weasley twins, as were the three girls on the team with the other.

Draco opened his mouth again to say something, and suddenly, Potter and the twin he was restraining were on him. It was Potter who landed the first punch; straight in Draco's gut. The fight was broken by a disgruntled Madam Hooch, who knocked the boys apart with an Impediment Jinx. The two Gryffindors were sent marching up the castle. Hermione could almost see the smirk that appeared on Draco's face as he watched them walk away.

"That was quite a punch Potter hit you with." she said, once the group of friends had been reunited. The aura of the group was quite dour with the loss.

"It was nothing." said Draco, turning up his nose.

Hermione raised a brow at him in challenge, and poked a finger into his stomach. He winced and stepped away reflexively, his lie evident. Hermione chuckled at him.

"Sit down, then." she said, pushing him lightly on the shoulder onto one of the couches of the common room.

He grimaced slightly as she poked around a little more, gouging the extent of the bruise. "This is going to sting a bit, mind you." she warned.

"I can take it." he said, not looking her in the eye.

She shook her head in amusement, saying, _"Episkey!"_ with a soft jab of her wand. A faint gold glow emitted from its tip, covering Draco's stomach before the glow ebbed away. "How's that?"

"Better." said Draco through gritted teeth. "Thanks."

Hermione met his gaze, cheeks coloring lightly.

"Ehem." came a cough from Blaise, who was looking at them curiously. She scramble away from her friend, remembering where she was.

"You're welcome." she said hastily, putting space in between the two of them.

The news of the Weasley twins and Potter's ban from Quidditch was enough to elicit a celebration from Slytherin House, bottles of butterbeer were brought out, as well as a few bottles of smuggled Firwhiskey and food from the kitchen. The Slytherin team was quick to get positively sloshed, as they usually did after a loss, and became the entertainment of the rest of the House.

Hermione chuckled lightly as Montague stumbled his way across the room, hands extended, trying to hug anyone who would reciprocate.

* * *

Hermione sat by her favorite window cozily, wrapped up in a soft cashmere jumper, warmed by a nearby fire. The snow outside was fresh and undisturbed, looking like a pretty white blanket over everything. She could hear the sounds of students enjoying themselves farther away, probably ice skating on the frozen lake or having snowball fights.

She however, was cooped up in the warmth of the library, surrounded by books and parchment. Sitting in front of her was an equally warm looking Theodore Nott, looking over her Transfiguration essay for any errors, as she had asked him to.

"Do you think Hagrid will be resuming his classes with us tomorrow?" she asked the boy, who didn't even look up as he replied.

"I guess so." he said. "Remember Grubbly-Plank said she was only teaching until he came back?"

Hermione sighed wistfully. "I wonder why Dumbledore keeps making him teach when we have a perfectly good teacher at our disposal."

"Beats me." said Theo, handing back her essay without a word. "But I'm wearing especially thick gloves tomorrow just in case he hands us one of those skrewts again. Now, help me with this translation will you? I keep messing up _Uruz_ and _Ansuz_."

* * *

"We're workin' in here today!" Hagrid called happily to the approaching students, jerking his head back at the dark trees behind him. "Bit more sheltered! Anyway, they prefer the dark. . . ."

"What did he say prefers the dark — did you hear?" asked Draco in trepidation.

"I honestly don't want to find out." muttered Blaise.

"Ready?" said Hagrid happily, looking around at the class. "Right, well, I've bin savin' a trip inter the forest fer yer fifth year. Thought we'd go an' see these creatures in their natural habitat. Now, what we're studyin' today is pretty rare, I reckon I'm probably the on'y person in Britain who's managed ter train 'em —"

"And you're sure they're trained, are you?" said Draco, the panic in his voice even more pronounced now. "Only it wouldn't be the first time you'd brought wild stuff to class, would it?"

The Slytherins murmured agreement and a few Gryffindors looked as though they thought Draco had a fair point too. "

" 'Course they're trained," said Hagrid, scowling and hoisting the dead cow a little higher on his shoulder.

He turned and strode straight into the forest. Nobody seemed much disposed to follow. They walked for about ten minutes until they reached a place where the trees stood so closely together that it was as dark as twilight and there was no snow on the ground at all. Hagrid deposited his half a cow with a grunt on the ground, stepped back, and turned to face his class again, most of whom were creeping toward him from tree to tree, peering around nervously as though expecting to be set upon at any moment.

"Gather roun', gather roun'," said Hagrid encouragingly. "Now, they'll be attracted by the smell o' the meat but I'm goin' ter give 'em a call anyway, 'cause they'll like ter know it's me. . . ."

Hagrid gave an odd, shrieking cry that echoed through the dark trees like the call of some monstrous bird. Nobody laughed; most of them looked too scared to make a sound. He repeated this a few more times.

"Oh, an' here comes another one!" said Hagrid proudly, as a second black horse appeared out of the dark trees, folded its leathery wings closer to its body, and dipped its head to gorge on the meat. "Now . . . put yer hands up, who can see 'em?"

Theo raised his hand from where he stood next to her, he had for some reason become stiff as a board. Potter and Longbottom also raised their hands, much to Hermione's confusion.

"Excuse me," said Draco sneering, "but what exactly are we supposed to be seeing?"

For answer, Hagrid pointed at the cow carcass on the ground. The whole class stared at it for a few seconds, then several people gasped. Bits of flesh were stripping themselves away from the bones and vanishing into thin air.

"What's doing it?" Parvati Patil demanded in a terrified voice, retreating behind the nearest tree. "What's eating it?"

"Thestrals," said Hagrid proudly and Hermione gave a soft "oh!" of comprehension. "Hogwarts has got a whole herd of 'em in here. Now, who knows — ? Righ', now, who can tell me why some o' you can see them an' some can't?"

Hermione raised her hand. "Go on then," said Hagrid gruffly.

"The only people who can see thestrals," she said, glancing at Theo, "are people who have seen death."

"Tha's exactly right," said Hagrid solemnly, "five points per Slytherin. Now, thestrals —"

 _"Hem, hem."_

Professor Umbridge had arrived. She was standing a few feet away from Potter, wearing her green hat and cloak, her clipboard at the ready. Hagrid, who had never heard Umbridge's fake cough before, was gazing in some concern at the closest thestral, evidently under the impression that it had made the sound.

 _"Hem, hem."_

"Oh hello!" Hagrid said, smiling, having located the source of the noise.

"You received the note I sent to your cabin this morning?" said Umbridge, in the same loud, slow voice she had used with him earlier, as though she was addressing somebody both foreign and very slow. "Telling you that I would be inspecting your lesson?"

"Oh yeah," said Hagrid brightly. "Glad yeh found the place all righ'! Well, as you can see — or, I dunno — can you? We're doin' thestrals today —"

"I'm sorry?" said Umbridge loudly, cupping her hand around her ear and frowning.

"What did you say?" Hagrid looked a little confused. "Er — thestrals!" he said loudly. "Big — er — winged horses, yeh know!"

Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows at him and muttered as she made a note on her clipboard, " 'has . . . to . . . resort . . . to . . . crude . . . sign . . . language . . .' "

Hermione smirked snidely, for once enjoying the fact that Umbridge was disrupting a lesson. The Slytherins shared a look with each other, eyes bright as they awaited eagerly for the results of Umbridge's newest evaluation.

* * *

December arrived, bringing with it more snow and a positive avalanche of homework for the fifth years. Draco and Pansy's prefect duties also became more and more onerous as Christmas approached. They were called upon to supervise the decoration of the castle and to patrol the corridors in shifts with Argus Filch, who suspected that the holiday spirit might show itself in an outbreak of wizard duels.

Their workload almost rivaled that of Hermione's, who aside from her regular classes, was still attending advance lessons two nights a week, practicing her nonverbal dueling. Hermione was going back to France for Christmas break, causing her to become more and more excited for classes to end.

During the last few days before vacation, Hermione found herself breathing heavily in front of Severus Snape. For the past thirty minutes, they had been dueling silently, but the Professor was yet to break a sweat. Suddenly, right before she was about to throw another curse, a phoenix Patronus came flying into the room.

It whispered something in Snape's ear before disappearing.

"It seems that our lesson for today will have to be cut short, Miss Dagworth-Granger. Something urgent had happened to Potter, apparently. Go back to the common room immediately."

Hermione bowed slightly in farewell before scuttling back to the dungeons, wondering what could have happened.

* * *

Her Christmas was spent practicing spells with her grandfather, shopping with her mother, and helping her father keep up his potion stores. Out of all the three, it was the latter that made her feel most at peace.

She liked to listen to the sound of her father working as she prepared his ingredients, watching him test his potions as she pickled a few Mandrake feet and turned vampire blood into fine powder. It was calming in a way, knowing that almost nothing had changed. She often wondered whether her parents knew what was happening outside of their own little world, whether they knew their daughter was training to be a Death Eater.

Of course, she knew that they didn't, which made her all the more lonely. Her grandfather was her only confidant these days, with Sirius being unable to visit. Even then, she didn't want to trouble her grandpere more than he already was. As she grew stronger, his worry seemed to both lessen and grow. It often took her an hour after practice to ease his nerves.

She worried about her family, about how they would do once the inevitable war rolled in. Her grandfather told her they would do as they did before, ride it out. The mansion had been built as a stronghold, and no one outside their tight-knit family knew of its exact whereabouts. It was under the Fideulus Charm, with Alphard as Secret Keeper, so they really couldn't be any more safe than they were.

Christmas came and went, and once again, she found herself back at Hogwarts all too soon. Snape had sent her a letter once she had arrived in the dormitories, stating that they would be rescheduling their practices, owing to the fact that Potter was going to have _Remedial Potions_ with him. Hermione burned the paper into an ash, thinking about how Snape would handle Potter's stubbornness. She couldn't see Potter excelling in Occlumency at all, if she was honest.

"Hermione!" some shouted jovially. She turned to find her best friend at the door way, blond hair bouncing happily as she approached.

"Thanks so much for the present." she said, pointing at the amethyst hair clip that pulled her hair back prettily.

"Don't mention it." Hermione smiled. "Thanks for mine, too." She gestured to the green and gold ballet flats she was wearing.

"How was your Christmas, then?" asked Daphne.

"Alright, nothing worth mentioning, really." she said. "And you?"

"Me either, although I met a boy in Diagon Alley."

"You and your boys." Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

Daphne shoved her lightly on the shoulder. "I heard from Zacharias Smit on the way down here that Potter's taking remedial potions, what a dunce."

Hermione nodded in agreement, mildly in awe at the Hogwarts gossip grape vine.

* * *

Hermione stared at the paper in her hands, her face a mask of stony indifference. Her knuckles were white, strained by her grip on the Prophet. Around her, her classmates were pouring over the copies of the newspaper, whispering urgently.

Filling the whole front page were ten black and white photographs, nine showing wizards' faces and the tenth, a witch's. Some of the people in the photographs were silently jeering; others were tapping their fingers on the frame of their pictures, looking insolent. Each picture was captioned with a name and the crime for which the person had been sent to Azkaban.

 _Antonin Dolohov_ , read the legend beneath a wizard with a long, pale, twisted face who was sneering up at her, _convicted of the brutal murders of Gideon and Fabian Prewett._

 _Augustus Rookwood_ , said the caption beneath a pockmarked man with greasy hair who was leaning against the edge of his picture, looking bored, convicted of leaking Ministry of Magic Secrets to HeWho-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Hermione's eyes were immediately drawn to the witch. She had long, dark hair that looked unkempt and straggly in the picture, though she had seen it sleek, thick, and shining in several family picture frames. She glared up at her through heavily lidded eyes, an arrogant, disdainful smile playing around her thin mouth. Hermione was reminded of the way her uncle had looked after escaping Azkaban — both their faces retained vestiges of great good looks before the dementors had drained them of all life.

 _Bellatrix Lestrange, convicted of the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom._

Hermione looked up from the paper, her eyes immediately going to the Gryffindor table, where a pale faced Neville Longbottom was already staring at her. What he saw when she looked up were the chilling replicas of the haunted eyes on the newspaper, alive and bright, and unknown to him, full of a guilt that could not be relieved.


	36. Chapter 36 : Au Milieu

**Chapter 36 : A** **u Milieu**

Draco was practically drunk with power. His main hobby now was to torment Potter and the Gryffindors every waking moment of their day. The Inquisitorial Squad as a whole, really, were all busy docking points from other houses. Because the Squad was composed of mainly Slytherins, Slytherin House now ranked highest in points. They all went out of their way to find minute errors in other students', punishing them for it.

The other Houses were getting quite furious with how things were working out, but being unable to retaliate without getting points docked or receiving detention, they were stuck grumbling about it to each other.

"Hey, did you hear?" asked Theo during lunch. "Montague's missing."

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.

"No one has seen him since two days ago."

"What? How could that have happened?" asked Daphne.

"Some people are saying that the Weasley twins did it, but we can't know for sure."

"I guess we should tone done the Inquisitorial business don't you think?" asked Hermione, "The other Houses might hold grudges for taking it a bit overboard."

"Tell that to Draco." snorted Theo, eyes pointed to where the boy in question was berating a Hufflepuff first year for chewing too loudly.

* * *

Hermione was forced to admit that the Weasley twins were geniuses in their own right. The first explosion had caused her to jump up from her seat at the Slytherin table in shock. It's force had actually caused the floor to shake.

Suddenly, the Hall was lit up with swirling bright enchanted fireworks. Dragons comprised entirely of green-and-gold sparks were soaring up and down the corridors, emitting loud fiery blasts and bangs as they went. Shocking-pink Catherine wheels five feet in diameter were whizzing lethally through the air like so many flying saucers. Rockets with long tails of brilliant silver stars were ricocheting off the walls. Sparklers were writing swearwords in midair of their own accord.

The fireworks continued to burn and to spread all over the school that afternoon. Though they caused plenty of disruption, particularly the firecrackers, the other teachers did not seem to mind them very much. It seemed as though the firecrackers were enchanted to target Umbridge, Filch, and members of the Inquisitorial Squad. Of course, Hermione, being herself, was fully equipped in defending herself against the crackles and pops of the explosions. Everywhere she went, she had her Shield Charm up with a radius of at least three feet.

Hermione found it quite amusing, really, unlike her friends, who had ended their day with singed cloaks and ash on their faces. Umbridge herself looked the worst she had ever been. The new headmistress had spent the afternoon chasing the fireworks out of the school.

* * *

Hermione knew Harry Potter was an idiot since she was very little, but she didn't;t think he was big enough an idiot to anger Snape enough to stop all their Occlumency lessons together. The very same night Snape kicked Potter out of his office, he called on Hermione.

She had become a sort of protege to the professor, sometimes he would even share an occasional story with her. Her relationship with the Potions Master unnerved her, it was odd to see him out of his usual character. Of course, he was still a sneering, snide man, but somehow he seemed less cold.

"How will he keep the Dark Lord away, then?" Hermione snorted, as she threw a curse at a stuffed mannequin the professor had conjured to practice her wandwork.

"He won't." said Snape simply. "Invert your arm a little, keep it locked."

"We're doomed for then?" she asked, blasting one of the dummy's fingers off of its body.

"Not necessarily. The Headmaster has a plan for everything." Snape said, maintaining his focus on her spells, "I thought I told you to aim for the ring finger? You severed the middle one. Try again."

"I haven't seen much of Headmaster Dumbledore these days, sir." Hermione said, shooting off another spell.

"Is that supposed to be a question?" asked Snape, who eyed the ring finger that had fallen to the ground in front of his feet.

"Only if you'll answer it, sir." she said simply.

"Dumbledore is a busy man, Miss Dagworth-Granger." he said. "He has a lot on his hands."

Hermione nodded, not exactly satisfied with the answer. "Shall we try Occlumency now, sir?"

"No," said Snape. "I have one thing I want to try. Just once, to show you what to expect."

The professor pushed the mannequin aside, coming to stand in front of her. "The Dark Lord is fond of his curses, as well as your aunt. It is a fact that once you are inducted, you will be on the receiving end of quite a few of them. If you are not against it, the Headmaster has asked me to show you what it feels like to be at the mercy of such a powerful man."

Hermione's mouth ran dry. It felt as if all the warmth in the room had been sucked out. The professor's face was a stony mask of indifference, making her all the more hesitant. But she knew that she had to do it, she couldn't risk betraying her secret in the midst of being tortured.

She nodded, a single tilt of her head that was all Snape needed.

"Please avoid screaming if you can." said Snape. _"Crucio."  
_

She couldn't have hoped in her life to grant her professor's request. The pain was unlike any other that she had felt in her lifetime. It was sudden and all-consuming. She felt as if her blood had been lit on fire and her lungs were being robbed of all the air inside of them. Hermione screamed. She screamed so loud that she feared she had made herself deaf.

After five seconds, Snape dropped the spell, but to Hermione it had felt like an eternity. She lay on the floor, a pile of sweat and tears, her fingers twitching and her legs bent at an odd angle under her. Her chest was heaving rapidly, taking in as much air as she could, in her head, all she could think about is how to get rid of the pain that still somehow remained, as if it was clinging onto her bones.

"Imagine that, but a hundred times worse." said Snape. "The Dark Lord will not hold back like I did. You have been taught that a Cruciatus must be cast with every once of hate and anger you have in you. The Dark Lord has an endless supply of it."

Hermione could not find it in herself to nod. She just lay there on the floor, trying to wish the pain away.

Suddenly, a feeling came over her, as if a bucket of cool water had been splashed on her. Somehow, it relieved the trace of the Cruciatus off her, like it had washed the curse away. She sat up, looking at her professor in awe.

 _"Frigidus Sana."_ said Snape. "It's an old spell designed to cure burns and internal bleeding in the olden times. I found that it works well to counter the effects of the Torture curse."

Hermione nodded, already trying to ingrain the spell to her memory.

"That is all for tonight." said Snape. "You may go."

She stood quickly as the professor went back to sit behind his desk.

"Good night, Professor." she said, bowing her head respectfully, before backing out of the room.

When she returned to her room, her bed had a curious package on it, a rectangular box wrapped in gold with a small card attached.

 _"Well done."_ was written on it in graceful, curling script. She opened the box to find that it contained a small bar of chocolate and the pendant she had given to Snape for Dumbledore to inspect.

Hermione smirked bemusedly.

Albus Dumbledore was certainly an enigma in himself.

* * *

Hermione found herself visiting the library more than ever as exams approached, but with the way she had studied in advance for everything, she took the time to revise what she hand't already memorized in the first place, and to tutor some of her friends.

Blaise and Daphne had both come to her, tails between their legs, begging her to teach them. Hermione was enjoyed tutoring them though, as it gave her the chance to actually cement the information into her brain. Theo and Draco sometimes studied alongside her, as well as Pansy, who, to her surprise, was quite efficient in her Charms and Transfiguration work.

As though to underline the importance of their upcoming examinations, a batch of pamphlets, leaflets, and notices concerning various Wizarding careers appeared on the tables in Slytherin Dungeon shortly before the end of the holidays. Along with them came the appearance of a notice on the board, announcing the dates and times of the fifth year Career Advising.

Hermione was somewhat distraught to see that her appointment was on Monday, at half-past nine, which meant she had to miss out on about half of Ancient Runes. She wasted no time on browsing the brochures left out for them, careers such as Magizoologist and Dragon Keeper did not interest her in the least.

None of the Slytherins possessed much of an interest in a profession, most of them probably already had their lives planned out for them anyway. Blaise had shoved a brochure away from him one night, announcing that he would just end up taking over his family's accounts and estate.

Coming from old money, the most that they had to do was keep their money in their Gringotts accounts, and probably hope to add a significant amount to their fortunes. There were some, however, such as Daphne, who had taken a liking to the title of 'fashion designer'. Hermione was quite sure that her friend did not have an inch of artistic talent in her bones, but supported her none the less.

"You would be a great Healer, Hermione." Daphne said, glancing at the brochures on the table. "Or maybe a Magical Confectioner!"

Draco snorted. Hermione and Daphne both turned to look at him, as usual, he washing on the chaise lounge next to them, one arm propping him up, a book opened in front of him.

"Hermione's better off being a Curse Breaker at Gringotts than a sweets maker." he said.

"What do you mean? Hermione can't be _that_ good at defensive spellwork." said Daphne, rolling her eyes.

Hermione sent a glare Draco's way, warning him to shut up. He shrugged, going back to his reading.

"I'm sure Draco just meant that I don't like candy very much, Daph." Hermione said.

"Oh, well that's true." she said, somewhat dejectedly. 'What are you going to do, then?"

"It's not like I have to do anything." Hermione said, flipping through a few brightly colored. "I always thought I'd master Potions, like my father"

"I can see that." her friend said. "Why don't you pursue it?"

"A lot can happen from now until the time I can do that." Hermione said vaguely.

* * *

She walked into Professor Snape's office at exactly half past nine on Monday. The office didn't seem any different than how it looked like at night, it was still as gloomy as ever, and the professor was in his usual seat behind his desk. The only difference was the set of brochures fanned out on the table, the brightly colored papers looking misplaced in the room.

"Sit down, Miss Dagworth-Granger." Snape said. "As you should know, this meeting is to talk over any career ideas you might have, and to help you decide which subjects you should continue into sixth and seventh years. Have you had any thoughts about what you would like to be doing in the future?"

"Counting in the possibility of my premature demise from now and graduation?" Hermione asked, sounding bored.

Snape seemed to find amusement in this, his mouth twisted in a smirk. "Yes, child."

"I haven't had any thoughts, no." she said. "I've been too busy learning how to be a Death Eater. Is that a career choice?"

"You aren't making my job any easier." said Snape. "Potential death aside, what would you want to be in the future?"

"Is _'alive'_ an option?" she asked.

"Miss Dagworth-Granger, just answer the question."

"Fine." she said. "I planned on being a Potions Apprentice under my father."

Snape nodded, writing something down on a sheet of paper. "I believe you know the qualifications needed to become a recognized Potions Master?"

"Minimum of seven NEWTS, nothing under Exceeds Expectations, and an Outstanding grade in Potions and Herbology." she said, ticking the items off her fingers.

"Your credentials are more than enough to allow you that already, if you proceed at this rate." Snape said. "If you have any questions regarding the matter, feel free to approach me."

Hermione nodded, picking up her school bag, ready to leave.

"Miss Dagworth-Granger," said Snape, stopping her just as she was at the door. "Headmaster Dumbledore would think that this would be the right time to say that one should not lose hope for the future just because the present seems bleak."

Hermione stared at the man blankly for a moment before nodding and walking away, his words ringing in her head.

* * *

It happened just as they were dismissed from Charms. There was a loud bang from somewhere down the hall from their class room, followed shouts and yells. Hermione tensed, her hand going into her pocket immediately, grabbing the hilt of her wand.

The class rushed out of the room, along with a frantic looking Professor Flitwick. It turned out to be another one of the Weasley twins' antics. When she finally saw what was causing the commotion, she could not stop the amused smile from spreading across her face.

The twins had somehow caused a large portion of the fifth corridor on the castle's east wing to turn into a swamp, complete with various creatures emerging from its murky waters. The students quickly turned back, making their way to the entrance hall, where several people seemed to be gathered.

Fred and George Weasley were in the middle of the crowd, grinning widely, tossing a few brightly colored packages to several students. Professor Umbridge was pointing her wand at the twins, who seemed nonplussed by the fact that they had been cornered.

"So . . . you think it amusing to turn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?"

"Pretty amusing, yeah," said Fred, looking back up at her without the slightest sign of fear.

"You two," Umbridge said, seething in anger, "are going to learn what happens to wrongdoers in my school."

"You know what?" said Fred. "I don't think we are." He turned to his twin.

"George," said Fred, "I think we've outgrown full-time education."

"Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself," said George lightly.

"Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?" asked Fred.

"Definitely," said George.

The two raised their wands together, ignoring Umbridge entirely, and said together, _"Accio Brooms!"_

Hermione heard a loud crash from the distance, and somewhere from her right, a pair of broomsticks, one still trailing the heavy chain and iron peg with which Umbridge had fastened them to the wall, were hurtling along the corridor toward their owners.

"Don't bother keeping in touch." said George, mounting his broom.

Fred looked around at the assembled students, and at the silent, watchful crowd. "If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley — Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes," he said in a loud voice. "Our new premises!"

"Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat," added George, pointing at Professor Umbridge.

By the time Umbridge began yelling her head off at several members of the Inquisitorial Squad to stop the twins, Fred and George kicked off from the floor, shooting fifteen feet into the air. The two wheeled about to tumultuous applause from the students below and sped out of the open front doors into the glorious sunset.

* * *

"You can't say they aren't brilliant." Hermione said over an Arithmancy book later that night.

"Brilliant, are they?" sneered Draco, "They're still a couple off blood traitors."

"I didn't say they weren't." she said, rolling her eyes. "You've got to admit they're quiet talented, though."

They were alone in the common rooms, it was late on a Thursday night, so everyone else was already fast asleep. When Daphne had finally announced she was done with Potions, Hermione had chosen to stay for a little longer, as had Draco. The two were now doing their own reading, Hermione had moved to lean back on the chaise lounge where Draco was laying, warming herself by the fire.

"Do you fancy one of them or something?" asked Draco, sounding annoyed.

Hermione laughed, "Of course not, they're Weasleys."

"If they weren't?" he pushed.

"Much too high-spirited." she said, brushing the thought away, "Have you heard of Apollonius's Theorem of Plane Geometry? I don't understand the equation relating to Pluto —"

She had turned her head to find than Draco was looking at her intently, his stormy grey eyes glaring at the place where she had her head turned.

"What?" she asked, frowning. "Has my hair come out of my plait?"

He seemed to realize she had noticed him staring, quickly looking back down at his open book. "No, it's nothing. You're perfect — I mean, your hair, your hair is perfect."

Draco looked flustered, which was an expression she rarely saw on his face.

"What's wrong, Draco?" she asked, laying a hand on his arm in concern.

"It's nothing." he said, quickly sitting upright, "I'm tired. I should get to bed. You should too."

He stood up abruptly, gathering his things. "Good night, Hermione."

He left her that way, staring at where he had been moments before, confused and sitting on the floor of an empty room.

* * *

 **a/n:** I'm too excited to get started on Half-blood Prince.


	37. Chapter 37 : Mort et Deuil

**Chapter 37 : Mort et Deuil**

To say that Slytherin House was having a rough time was an understatement. After the Weasley twins' departure, students began an onslaught against Umbridge, Filch, and members of the Inquisitorial Squad. Dungbombs, Stinkpellets, and several could smelling firecrackers went off so frequently that Hermione and her friends had been forced to wear Bubble Head charms everywhere they went. She even went through the pain of teaching her friends how to cast a semi-permanent Shield Charm to keep the Dungbombs away.

Even though she had taught them to the best of her abilities, some were still unable to cast a perfect charm, Pansy, for example, missed all her lessons one day because she had sprouted a pair of antlers.

Meanwhile, it had become clear that the twins had been doing their fair share of marketing while they had still been at Hogwarts. Skivving Snackboxes were becoming so popular that almost every Defense class, there were at least ten people in stages of various illnesses.

Hermione could have done without the frenzy the castle was in, the fifth years were already frantic enough with their exams coming. Because of the ruckus, she had resorted to studying in the common rooms, surrounding herself in a small little space with several spells cast to cancel out any noice. Several days before, Snape had given them their examination schedules, which was quite the wake up call to several students, who began looking for brain stimulants from various questionable sources.

For the Theory of Charms exam, she was quite proud of herself in the end, confident she couldn't have gotten a grade other than Outstanding. At lunch, the fifth years were either discussing their answers or reviewing for the practical exam. Hermione spent her lunch, unlike the rest, actually eating.

Small groups of students were called forward in alphabetical order for the exam, she was one of the students in the third batch, along with Tracey Davis, who was biting her nails in anxiety.

"Professor Tofty has just finished, Miss Dagworth-Granger." said Flitwick. "You'll probably find this exam quite easy, to be honest. Do your best, child."

"Good afternoon, sir." Hermione greeted, bowing her head respectfully.

"Miss Dagworth-Granger is it?" said Tofty, consulting his notes and peering over his pince-nez at her, "I know your father."

"I'm sure he's mentioned you before, sir." Hermione said, smiling sweetly. Of course, she had never heard the man's name mentioned before.

"Alright, then,"said the Professor, smiling back at her, "I would like you to take these tea cups and make them sing for me."

Once again, Hermione did brilliantly, her exam proctor said just as much. Her levitation charmed was perfect, as was the specific shade of teal green she had turned her mouse into. She left the room feeling as if she could conquer the world.

Transfiguration was a little more tricky than Charms. She counted two and a half errors on her written exam, and her casting of turning a tea kettle into a toad could have gone a little better — her toad looked a bit more like a frog to her.

Herbology passed without any complaints from her, and once again, on Thursday, she did brilliantly during Defense Against the Dark Arts. Her advanced reading on Defense proved to give her an upper hand in the essay portion of the exam.

Professor Tofty was examining her again for the Defense practical, where she demonstrated a perfect Boggart banishing spell.

"Very good, indeed, Miss Dagworth-Granger." said Tofty. "That is all, although, I must ask you … is it true that Harry Potter can produce a Patronus Charm? At such a young age I daresay it's quite the feat …"

"I believe he can, Professor." she said, then, she added, feeling miffed, "Although, I don't think it's anything special, I can do it as well."

The professor looked at her with a brow raised skeptically, as if questioning how she could possibly be on the same level as the great Harry Potter. "Well, for a bonus point then … doesn't have to be corporeal … you can try …"

Hermione huffed, glancing once at Umbridge, who was observing the whole thing. She raised her wand, imagining the new headmaster falling off the Astronomy Tower.

 _"Expecto Patronum!"_

Her familiar fox came bounding out from the tip of her wand in a silvery haze, approaching Tofty playfully before leaping about the rest of the room. The Professor looked as if was in shock as he watched the figure disappear into a silver mist.

"Excellent, excellent!" said Tofty after a moment. "I must say, Hogwarts has a rather spectacular batch of students this year. However did you learn such a thing, girl?"

Hermione smirked, tipping her chin up haughtily, "I taught myself." she said, before walking out the room.

All her other exams went by considerably well, aside from Arithmancy, which she truly did find to be rather difficult. Finally, all that remained was Astronomy and History of Magic.

As she was completing a chart of the constellation of Gemini, the front doors of the castle opened somewhere below where she was standing, so that light spilled down the stone steps a little way across the lawn. She ignored the distraction, finishing her chart quickly before moving to the next constellation.

A few moments later, she heard a roar from the distant cabin that echoed through the darkness right to the top of the Astronomy Tower. Several of the people around her ducked out from behind their telescopes and peered instead in the direction of Hagrid's cabin.

Professor Marchbanks coughed. "Try and concentrate, now, boys and girls," she said softly.

Hermione fought off her curiosity, etching in a few details on Canis Major. There was a loud BANG from the grounds. Several people said "Ouch!" as they poked themselves in the face with the ends of their telescopes, hastening to see what was going on below.

Hagrid's door had burst open and by the light flooding out of the cabin they saw him quite clearly, a massive figure roaring and brandishing his fists, surrounded by six people, all of whom, judging by the tiny threads of red light they were casting in his direction, seemed to be attempting to Stun him.

"No!" shouted Longbottom somewhere down the assembled line of students

"This is an examination!" exclaimed Professor Tofty, sounding scandalized.

But nobody was paying the slightest attention to their star charts anymore: Jets of red light were still flying beside Hagrid's cabin, yet somehow they seemed to be bouncing off him. He was still upright and fighting. Cries and yells echoed across the grounds; a man yelled, "Be reasonable, Hagrid!" and Hagrid roared, "Reasonable be damned, yeh won' take me like this, Dawlish!"

Hermione looked up at the sound of the familiar name. Suddenly, another figure came rushing to the scene, the voice shouting off the top of her lungs sounded rather similar to Professor McGonagall.

"Leave him alone! Alone, I say!" said Professor McGonagall's voice through the darkness. "On what grounds are you attacking him? He has done nothing, nothing to warrant such —"

Several girls screamed in shock. No fewer than four Stunners had shot from the figures around the cabin toward Professor McGonagall. Halfway between cabin and castle the red beams collided with her. For a moment she looked luminous, illuminated by an eerie red glow, then was lifted right off her feet, landed hard on her back, and moved no more.

"Galloping gargoyles!" shouted Professor Tofty, who seemed to have forgotten the exam completely. "Not so much as a warning! Outrageous behavior!"

Hermione had the exact same thoughts running through her head as concern for the professor filled her. The attack on McGonagall outraged Hagrid even more.

"Get him, get him!" screamed Umbridge, but her remaining helper seemed highly reluctant to go within reach of Hagrid's fists. Indeed, he was backing away so fast he tripped over one of his unconscious colleagues and fell over. Hagrid had turned and begun to run with Fang still hung around his neck; Umbridge sent one last Stunning Spell after him but it missed, and Hagrid, running full-pelt toward the distant gates, disappeared into the darkness.

There was a long minute's quivering silence, everybody gazing openmouthed into the grounds. Then Professor Tofty's voice said feebly, "Um . . . five minutes to go, everybody . . ."

Hermione still had a couple of spaces to fill in her chart, which she did hastily, scrambling to look at the sky and write at the same time. She cursed Umbridge several times for making her lose around seven points.

"She's raving." Hermione hissed to Theo as they exited the examination room. "Four Stunners at once! I wonder if McGonagall's alright."

"She'll make it." Theo said, patting her shoulder comfortingly.

"Who cares?" said Draco, as if it all bored him. "Did you see that giant oaf fight back like the monster he is?"

Hermione turned to face Draco, eyes blazing. "You can be such an arse sometimes." she snapped. " _Pourquoi n'essayez-vous pas de cultiver un coeur?" Why don't you try growing a heart?_

She stomped away, leaving her friends to glare at Draco angrily.

* * *

The History of Magic Exam ended quickly, much of it had passed with her scribbling the answers furiously, glancing at the clock every now and then. A few people had passed out due to pressure in the middle of the test, not that she took any notice.

She walked out of the exam room recounting her answers in a daze until someone grabbed her by the arm, pulling her somewhere down the hall. She turned to see who it was, finding a serious looking Theo Nott.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her feet trying to cope with his long strides.

"Umbridge's calling us. Someone's activated her sensors." said Theo.

"Now?" she complained. "I can't deal with another niftier."

"If I have to do it, you do too." he said.

As it turned out, it wasn't another Niffler. They turned the corridor to Umbridge's office, joined by the rest of the Inquisitorial Squad, to find Longbottom, Ginny Weasley, and Luna Lovegood blocking the path.

They shot their spells first. The Slytherins retaliated, quickly overpowering the small group and binding them magically. They entered Umbridge's office, where Draco, Pansy, and Millicent were already observing Umbridge screaming at Potter hysterically. Millicent had Weasley pinned against a wall, and Draco was leaning on the windowsill, smirking as he threw Potter's wand into the air one-handed and then caught it again.

"So, Potter," she said. "You stationed lookouts around my office and you sent this buffoon," she nodded at Weas;ey, and Draco laughed, "to tell me the poltergeist was wreaking havoc in the Transfiguration department when I knew perfectly well that he was busy smearing ink on the eyepieces of all the school telescopes, Mr. Filch having just informed me so.

"Clearly, it was very important for you to talk to somebody. Was it Albus Dumbledore? Or the half-breed, Hagrid? I doubt it was Minerva McGonagall, I hear she is still too ill to talk to anyone. . . ."

Hermione glared at Draco, daring him to laugh at that. He remained quiet.

"It's none of your business who I talk to," he snarled. Umbridge's slack face seemed to tighten.

"Very well," she said in her most dangerous and falsely sweet voice. "Very well, Mr. Potter . . . I offered you the chance to tell me freely. You refused. I have no alternative but to force you. Draco — fetch Professor Snape."

Draco stowed Potter's wand inside his robes and left the room smirking. There was silence in the office except for the fidgetings and scufflings resultant from the Slytherins' efforts to keep Weasley and the others under control.

Hermione tightened the restraints on Weasley's wrists a little more, smirking when he winced in pain. Millie, who was still holding him down, glanced at Hermione in amusement.

"You wanted to see me, Headmistress?" said Snape, looking around at all the pairs of struggling students with an expression of complete indifference.

"Ah, Professor Snape," said Umbridge, smiling widely and standing up again. "Yes, I would like another bottle of Veritaserum, as quick as you can, please."

"You took my last bottle to interrogate Potter," he said, observing her coolly through his greasy curtains of black hair. "Surely you did not use it all? I told you that three drops would be sufficient."

"You can make some more, can't you?" she said, her voice becoming more sweetly girlish as it always did when she was furious.

"Certainly," said Snape, his lip curling. "It takes a full moon cycle to mature, so I should have it ready for you in around a month."

"A month?" squawked Umbridge, swelling toadishly. "A month? But I need it this evening, Snape! I have just found Potter using my fire to communicate with a person or persons unknown!"

"Really?" said Snape, showing his first, faint sign of interest as he looked around at the boy. "Well, it doesn't surprise me. Potter has never shown much inclination to follow school rules."

"I wish to interrogate him!" shouted Umbridge angrily, and Snape looked away from Potter back into her furiously quivering face. "I wish you to provide me with a potion that will force him to tell me the truth!"

"I have already told you," said Snape smoothly, "that I have no further stocks of Veritaserum. Unless you wish to poison Potter — and I assure you I would have the greatest sympathy with you if you did — I cannot help you. The only trouble is that most venoms act too fast to give the victim much time for truth-telling. . . "

"You are on probation!" shrieked Professor Umbridge, and Snape looked back at her, his eyebrows slightly raised. "You are being deliberately unhelpful! I expected better, Lucius Malfoy always speaks most highly of you! Now get out of my office!"

Snape gave her an ironic bow and turned to leave. Suddenly, Potter lunged forward, trying to get out of Umbridge's bindings.

"He's got Padfoot!" he shouted. "He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!"

Hermione's blood ran cold. Her eyes widened fractionally as she watched Potter struggle.

Snape had stopped with his hand on Umbridge's door handle.

"Padfoot?" cried Professor Umbridge, looking eagerly from Potter to Snape. "What is Padfoot? Where what is hidden? What does he mean, Snape?"

"I have no idea," said Snape coldly. "Potter, when I want nonsense shouted at me I shall give you a Babbling Beverage. And Crabbe, loosen your hold a little, if Longbottom suffocates it will mean a lot of tedious paperwork, and I am afraid I shall have to mention it on your reference if ever you apply for a job.

"Miss Dagworth-Granger, I am in need of your assistance in restocking my Potions storage. Come with me now."

Hermione followed him out quickly, not minding Umbridge, who had already begun another rant.

"What did he mean?" Hermione asked, "He has Sirius? How is that possible?"

"Save your questions, there isn't any time to waste." said Snape seriously. She followed him to a statue of a one-eyed witch. He tapped the hump of the statue with his wand, saying aloud, " _Dissendium"_. The statue slid open, revealing a paassage.

"Follow me." Snape said.

She obeyed, quickly, they went through the tunnel, and she found that it ended in some sort of basement. Snape then climbed a stairwell, where she realized that the cellar belonged to Honeydukes. The two quickly exited the store.

"Hold on to my arm, Miss Dagworth-Granger."

She complied, grasping the professor's black clad arm before he Apparated them both.

"Where are we, sir?" she asked, after shaking away the dizziness that Appartion caused her.

"Number 13 Grimmauld Place." said Snape.

Suddenly, a townhouse came into view in between Number 12 and 14, as if it had been there all along. Snape hastily lead her across the street, where he opened the door with an Unlocking spell.

"Who goes there!?" shouted a voice from somewhere in the drab house.

"Sirius!" Hermione yelled, running to find her uncle.

He was in the house's kitchen, along with Professor Lupin, making a sandwich for himself.

 _"Fucking Potter."_ Hermione cursed, just as Snape muttered something under his breath.

"Why are you cursing my godson?" asked Sirius. "And shouldn't you be in school?"

"No time." Hermione said. "I think the Dark Lord's made Potter believe that you've been captured in the place where _it_ is hidden, I don't know what that means, though."

Sirius looked at Snape, dropping his sandwich in alarm.

"Has Dumbedore been informed?" Sirius asked.

"I'm about to do so." said Snape. "I believe Potter might do something stupid to save you, I had to make sure you were here first."

"Someone needs to stop Harry." said Sirius.

"I'll do it." Hermione said. "I just have to get back to Hogwarts.

"I can't take you." said Snape. "I have to inform Dumbledore."

"I can —" Sirius tried.

"You cant, you idiot." snapped Snape. "If someone sees you with her, the plan is ruined."

"I can." said Lupin. They all turned to him, forgetting he was there in the first place. "I have no bloody clue what in Circe's name is going on, but I can do it."

"I'll explain later, mate." Sirius said, "Just get her to Hogwarts. Use the Honeydukes passage, yeah?"

Lupin nodded.

She went to hug her uncle tightly. "Be safe, uncle." she whispered.

"Always, kid." he smirked, looking down at her. "Take care of yourself, yeah? And watch over Harry for me."

She nodded, hesitant to leave her uncle.

"Come now, Miss Dagworth-Granger." said Lupin, who was waiting for her, having shrugged on his coat.

Hermione thanked Lupin once they Apparated in front of Honeydukes.

"Sirius will explain everything." she ensured before running inside and down the stairs to the cellar. Her footsteps echoed through the halls of the castle as she made her way back to Umbridge's office.

The moment she opened the door, she was struck with a Immobilizing Curse. Her body thudded to the floor like a board. Smirking above her, a cut on his lip bleeding profusely, was Ron Weasley.

"How's it feel, Dagworth?" he spat. The four Gryffindors quickly ran out of the room, leaving her there, heart pounding in her chest and eyes wide in alarm, trying to will the spell away.

* * *

That was how they were found hours later. The members of the Inquisitorial Squad were in various states of consciousness when they had been discovered by Professor Flitwick, who had been looking for Umbridge.

As soon as the professor released the spell from her, she bounded to her feet.

"Professor, have you seen Professor Snape?" she said in a rush of breath.

Flitwick looked at her with wide eyes, "Yes, I just saw him on the third corridor I think he was on his way to the dungeons —"

She rushed out of the room as she heard the words, behind her, she could hear Flitwick shouting about the Hospital Wing, but she was too quick. Too much time had passed since she had arrived in the school, Potter's whereabout were unknown to her, for all she knew, he could have broken out of the castle.

Hermione skidded to a halt in front of Snape's office, not even hesitating to slam the door open. The professor was inside, his face looking pale and pacing back and forth in front of his desk.

"Professor," she panted, "Weasley immobilized me … couldn't stop them … what happened?"

Snape looked at her with a grace expression on his face.

"You should sit down, child."

* * *

"No." she said again. "No, it isn't possible."

Snape looked on somberly at her. "Bellatrix's spell pushed him into the Veil, there was nothing anyone could do to save him."

"No." she said. "IT ISN'T POSSIBLE."

"Miss Dagworth-Granger, please —"

"WHERE IS POTTER?!" she screamed, her blood rushing to her face in anger. "I'LL KILL HIM!"

"Miss Dagworth-Granger!" Snape tried shouting.

"WE JUST GOT HIM BACK!" she stood abruptly, stomping towards the door. "I'LL KILL HIM!"

She tried wrenching the door open, but Snape was moments ahead of her, he had locked the door shut, throwing a quick spell.

Hermione screamed in anguish, bringing out her wand, trying to unlock the door. When _"Alohamora"_ failed to work, she cried out angrily.

" _Bombarda!"_

 _"Bombarda Maxima!"_

 _"Expulso!"_

The door remained closed and whole, not even a dent had appeared on its surface. "Open the door!" she yelled, turning on Snape. Her wand did not waver as she pointed it at her professor. "Open it!"

"Miss Dagworth-Granger, listen to reason —"

"SIRIUS IS DEAD!" she shouted, "TO HELL WITH REASON!"

She raised her wand, ready to strike at the professor, but he was quicker. He wand was out of her hand and in his in a flash of a second.

"I will not open that door unless you calm down." he said.

"Open the door!" she ordered, sounding as if she was talking to a misbehaving house elf.

"I would do as she says, Sirius." came a voice from the other side of said door. It swung open immediately, revealing Dumbledore on the other side, his robes were covered in dust and grime, and he certainly had seen better days, but is was certainly the Headmaster.

"You let Sirius die." Hermione growled.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Hermione." said Dumbledore solemnly. "You are hurt and angry, it's common to feel this way, but your uncle knew what he was getting himself into."

"He wouldn't have had to if _The Chosen One_ had just learned Occlumency." she spat.

"Now is not the time for placing blame." he coaxed.

"It is _exactly_ the right time for placing blame." she snapped venomously. "It's Potter's fault —"

"Harry is already blaming himself for what happened tonight." Dumbledore said. "He is hurting too, child."

"I lost my uncle!" Hermione exclaimed.

"And Harry lost the only chance at a family he has ever had." said the Headmaster, eyes flashing, "I understand how you feel, but you know as well as I that there will always exist the chance of death in times like these. Your uncle knew the risks, and he accepted them."

Hermione pursed her lips, glaring at the man in front of her, but remained silent.

"It was partly my fault that Sirius died." he said clearly. "For that, I must apologize to you. I know you and your uncle were close. He loved you, just as he loved Harry. He sacrificed his life for Harry, which should not have happened in the first place had I not been so cautious in my planning.

"Your grandfather has been contacted. He will come tomorrow afternoon to fetch you."

Hermione did not respond, she merely look at the man numbly, face void of any emotion.

"Lupin saw me tonight, when I went to Grimmauld Place." she said blankly.

"The matter has been addressed." said Dumbledore. "Go on and rest, child. Tonight has been a burden for all of us."

* * *

When Hermione returned to the common room, it was already well past one in the morning, but she was surprised to see a group of six Slytherins huddled around the common room fire, stone faced and talking in hushed tones.

"Hermione?" Draco called as she appeared in the passage way, drawing the attention of the group to her.

"What's happened?" she asked, furrowing her brows in confusion.

"Where have you been?" he asked.

"Hospital Wing." she said, the lie rolling off her tongue easily. "What's wrong?"

She went to join the group, several of the older boys were looking at her with narrowed eyes. She met their gazes with a fierce look, all her patience sapped away.

"Potter happened." growled Draco. "Our fathers were captured tonight. Only Bellatrix got away."

"Shite." she cursed, pushing down the anger that rose to her chest upon hearing her aunt's name. "We'll get them back. The Dark Lord still needs men."

Several heads nodded in agreement.

"We were just discussing our plans for the summer." said Theo, who was seated in between Mulciber and Warrington. His eyes locked on hers for a moment, and understanding dawned on her.

"You all have the same plans, then?" she asked, glancing around the faces in the room.

"Pretty much." grinned Warrington. "What are your plans then, _Black_?"

Hermione forced a smirk on her face, hoping that the anger in her eyes translated into fierce intent. "I'm just waiting for my invitation to join the party, Cassius."

The group shared a cold laugh that seemed to make the Slytherin common room darker than it already was.

* * *

Hermione hadn't been able to sleep a wink. She had spent the night packing her things by hand laboriously. When morning came, she quickly dressed herself, pulling her hair tightly into a plait down her back that made her head ache. She wanted something to distract her, anything to smother the heart-wrenching pain in her chest that made her want to scream. She wished her grandfather could come sooner.

"Hermione?" Daphne said, rousing her from her thoughts "Why are your things all packed? We still have a few days to go."

"I'm leaving early." she said, forcing on a smile, "My mother has some sort of event she wants me to attend."

"Oh," Daphne said, looking at her intently, "are you alright? You seem … off."

"I'm fine." Hermione said, feeling her insides twist painfully.

"Alright, do you want to go to breakfast together?"

"Go on without me." she said, "I'll be down in a few."

She waited about ten minutes after Daphne had departed to leave the dormitory, hoping that no one would see her. Of course, with her luck, the moment she entered the common room, so did Draco, Greg, and Vince.

"Morning." Draco greeted upon seeing her.

She plastered a smile on her face again. "Good morning."

They walked to breakfast together in silence, none of them in a talking mood. The three boys were wearing identical dour expressions on their faces, as if they were on a mission. It became obvious to Hermione what the three were set to do when they quickened their steps from the door to the marbled staircase leading to the entrance hall.

A little ways far from them stood Harry Potter, who had stopped dead at the sight of them. Hermione hung back, hiding behind the large figures of Greg and Vince, unable to contain the look of rage that appeared on her face upon seeing the boy. She seethed angrily, trying to contain her anger as Draco began talking.

"You're dead, Potter." he said in a low voice.

Potter raised his eyebrows. "Funny," he said, "you'd think I'd have stopped walking around. . . ."

"You're going to pay," said Draco in a voice barely louder than a whisper. "I'm going to make you pay for what you've done to my father. . . ."

"Well, I'm terrified now," said Harry sarcastically. "I s'pose Lord Voldemort's just a warm-up act compared to you three — what's the matter?"

"You think you're such a big man, Potter," said Draco, advancing now, Vince and Greg flanking him. "You wait. I'll have you. You can't land my father in prison. "The dementors have left Azkaban, Dad and the others'll be out in no time. . . ." "

"Yeah, I expect they will," said Harry. "Still, at least everyone knows what scumbags they are now —"

Draco's hand flew toward his wand, but Potter was too quick for him. He had drawn his own wand before Draco's fingers had even entered the pocket of his robes.

"Potter!"

Hermione groaned inwardly at the sound of the voice, she had been itching to throw a curse at Potter. The voice rang across the entrance hall; Snape had emerged from the staircase leading down to his office.

"What are you doing, Potter?" said Snape coldly as ever, as he strode over to the five of them. The professor's eyes strayed to her for a fraction for a moment before landing back on Potter.

"I'm trying to decide what curse to use on Malfoy, sir," said Harry fiercely.

Snape stared at him. "Put that wand away at once," he said curtly. "Ten points from Gryff —" Snape looked toward the giant hourglasses on the walls and gave a sneering smile. "Ah. I see there are no longer any points left in the Gryffindor hourglass to take away. In that case, Potter, we will simply have to —"

"Add some more?" Professor McGonagall had just stumped up the stone steps into the castle. She was carrying a tartan carpetbag in one hand and leaning heavily on a walking stick with her other, but otherwise looked quite well.

"Professor McGonagall!" said Snape, striding forward. "Out of St. Mungo's, I see!"

"Yes, Professor Snape," said Professor McGonagall, shrugging off her traveling cloak, "I'm quite as good as new. You two — Crabbe — Goyle —"

She beckoned them forward imperiously and they came, shuffling their large feet and looking awkward.

"Here," said Professor McGonagall, thrusting her carpetbag into Crabbe's chest and her cloak into Goyle's, "take these up to my office for me." They turned and stumped away up the marble staircase.

"Right then," said Professor McGonagall, looking up at the hourglasses on the wall, "well, I think Potter and his friends ought to have fifty points apiece for alerting the world to the return of You-KnowWho! What say you, Professor Snape?"

Hermione glowered as the conversation went downhill, suddenly, Gryffindor had two hundred and forty more points to their name.

"Well, Potter, Malfoy, I think you ought to be outside on a glorious day like this," Professor McGonagall continued briskly.

Potter thrust his wand back inside his robes, heading straight for the front doors. As he passed, Hermione grabbed hold of his robes, gripping the cloth tightly.

"How does it feel to know that it's your fault he died?" she hissed vehemently, her voice so quiet that only he could have heard her. She smirked coldly when she saw the color leave his face. She let go of him, pushing him away from her angrily.

Potter did not even glance her way, he just continued walking. Hermione knew, though, that her words had reached him. She turned to face Snape, who had been talking to Draco. His eyes were on her, unreadable and blank. She felt a pressure in the back of her head.

Hermione had her walls up in an instant, angered that the man would even think of entering her mind at that moment. She kicked him out of her head quickly, shutting him out entirely before grabbing on to Draco and dragging him into the Great Hall.

* * *

 **a/n: :(**


	38. Chapter 38 : Recruitment

**Chapter 38 : Recruitment**

Her first night in Paris after Sirius' death was horrible. As soon as she and her grandfather were alone in his study, she broke down in tears, Alphard Black holding his granddaughter tightly, unable to ease her pain away because it was mirrored in his own heart.

Her mother, once she had been told of the news, had also shed tears for Sirius, even though they had never gotten along. Hermione's father was quick to organize a small funeral. Without a body, they had nothing to bury, so they filled a small wooden box with the handsomest cloak and robe he owned, a pipe, and his portrait. The box was buried in the the courtyard, marked with a flat, black marble epitaph and a rose bush that Lyra had planted. It was a lackluster funeral, and the family had retired back into the house after.

Her parents had not been informed exactly how Sirius had died, only that it had involved an encounter with Death Eaters. The Dagworth-Granger Manor was closed to everyone except them and the house elves. Hermione's mother and father no longer had friends over for tea, choosing to remain hidden once again. Alphard had ultimately decided to keep his family in the dark.

Hermione waited. She waited five and a half weeks into summer vacation before the letter she had been waiting for arrived. When the owl bearing the envelope arrived, it was quickly shooed away by the house elves, and the letter presented to her while she was reading in the library. She was quick to call her grandfather, who had taken to keeping to himself in his study.

 _"Grandpere?"_ she said quietly as she opened the door.

"Yes, my dear?" the man said from his desk. "Come in."

Hermione closed the door behind her, casting a _"Muffliato"_ charm as she did. Her grandfather observed her curiously. Her eyes shone with tears as she handed the man the black letter. Her name was written on it in silver handwriting, and stamped upon in, keeping it closed was the Dark Mark, glaring at them evilly.

"It's time." she whispered.

* * *

"I'll be writing you every week." Lyra said, fixing her daughter's hair, "Don't get into any trouble now, and please refrain from disturbing Narcissa, you know it's a difficult time for her."

"Yes, Maman." Hermione said.

"I still do not agree with sending you off to England at a time like this." said Hector, his face pulled into a frown.

"I'll be fine, Papa." Hermione insisted, "I'm a big girl now."

"Take care of yourself, mon cher." her father said.

"Hermione," Alphard said, interrupting the family of three. "You were supposed to leave five minutes ago."

Hermione smiled sadly, hugging her grandfather one more time before grabbing on to her Portkey — a silver thimble — and saying _"Portus."_

She was engulfed in the familiar feeling of being transported from one place to another. Once her feet were on solid ground, she dropped the thimble and dusted off her robes. Her hand went to her neck, where her pendant was safely nestled under her clothes, making sure it was still there.

Hermione had landed right infant of Malfoy Manor. It looked just as magnificent as it did in the previous years she had visited, and yet, something was different. She could practically feel the Dark Magic emanating from the place, it made her shiver uneasily at the feeling.

The silver door knockers in the shape of serpents were heavy in her hands as she rapped the doors three times. A house elf appeared shortly, guiding her into a sitting room. She had been sitting there, waiting for about ten minutes before a familiar voice came from the doorway.

"Hermione?"

She turned abruptly, smiling at the sight of her friend. He was dressed smartly, as he always was, in black robes that made his skin look paler than it already was. She stood, hurrying to him and bringing him in an embrace, glad to see that he was alright.

"It's good to see you, Draco." she said, once she had released him.

"It's good to see you too." he said, not looking at her, "Have you got any bags? I'm supposed to bring you to your room."

"Your house elf took them already." she said.

"Oh, alright. Follow me, then." he said, leading her up a flight of stairs.

"You're on the west wing of the third landing. My room's on the west of the second. Theo stays here a lot and his room's right across yours." Draco said. Hermione nodded absently as her curious eyes drank in her surroundings.

He opened the door to her room, letting her in. Hermione stood there, inspecting the place before realizing Draco had remained in the doorway, standing so still he looked like a statue.

"Why are you so stiff?" she asked jokingly. "Come inside."

"It isn't proper to enter a lady's room while she is alone." he said, eyes looking at every direction but hers.

"You act as if that matters to you." she said, laughing. "Come on, Draco, we've known each other for years, it's not like you're going to ravish me."

Surprisingly, the tips of his ears became a bright shade of pink. He made no move to enter the room.

"Fine, then." she said, walking past him, "If you won't talk to me in my room let's go to the gardens. Is anyone there?"

"No one else is here at the moment except Mother." Draco said, following her down the hall. "The, er, _others_ are out on missions."

"Has anyone been inducted already?" she asked.

"Flint, Pucey and Warrington took the Mark right after school ended. Then a few I don't know took it last week. I don't think anyone besides you, Theo, and me are getting Marked in our year though."

Hermione nodded in understanding. "Bellatrix is staying here?"

"Yes, she's raving, so it's best not to talk to her though. The Lestrange brothers are staying here too." Draco said. "And Wormtail. Do you know him?"

Hermione nodded. "I've heard of him. Does the Dark Lord really reside here now?"

"Sometimes," said Draco, as they walked along Narcissa's rose bushes. "He's here a lot, but I don't think he ever sleeps at the Manor."

"Do you know when our induction will be?" she asked. It unsettled her that the conversation was progressing as if they were exchanging opinions on Quidditch tactics.

"Tomorrow night, I think. Theo's coming tonight."

"Have you heard anything about your father?" she asked.

"He's still in Azkaban. The Dark Lord hasn't said anything about it." Draco's voice had gone cold.

She rested a hand on her shoulder, offering him a sad smile. "We'll get him back." she promised.

He remained silent, staring at the expanse of the gardens. They remained that way for a while, before a house elf had popped into sight, surprising them both with the announcement that Narcissa Malfoy wanted to have tea with Hermione.

"Just me?" Hermione asked the elf. He nodded furiously, before popping out of sight.

"She'll probably be in the greenhouse." Draco said. "I'll take you there."

The Malfoy greenhouses were unlike the ones at Hogwarts. For one, it did not contain any form of man eating, venomous, or poisonous plants, and another difference was that it was made out of clear crystal and gilded steel, the light shone on the flowers beautifully in the afternoon sun.

Narcissa was already sitting in the middle of the greenhouse, similarly dressed as Draco and Hermione, head to toe in black robes. Hermione curtsied respectfully to the lady of the house.

"Good afternoon, Lady Malfoy." she said, bowing her head.

"How many times have I told you to call me Narcissa, dear?" said the woman. She looked quite different from the last time she had seen her. Narcissa seemed thinner, more tired looking, and Hermione counted several wrinkles that hadn't been there the previous year.

"Force of habit." Hermione said, smiling.

"Sit down, my dear." she motioned to the empty seat in front of her. The table was already filled with several finger foods and scones, as well as a porcelain tea pot. "Thank you, Draco, you may leave us."

She watched as her friend departed, his figure lost in the foliage. An elf popped into view, ready to brew her tea.

"White tea, please." Hermione said, and the elf went to work.

"How are you, Hermione?" Narcissa asked.

"I'm quite well, thank you. And you, Narcissa?"

"I can't say I'm at my best." the woman said, smiling sadly.

"This isn't about me, thought." she said, recovering quickly. "I wanted to ask you, are you completely sure that you want this, dear girl? You don't have to, you know. I never did."

Hermione smiled, understanding the woman's concern. "I'm sure." she said.

"It's quite horrible, you know, taking it. Lucius told me once that it was excruciating, even for him."

"I'll find a way to get through it." Hermione ensured.

Narcsissa sighed heavily. "You're just so young." she said. "All of you are."

Hermione nodded her head, unable to disagree. "It's a choice we have to make."

"Hermione, I know you're a bright girl." Narcissa said, "The perfect daughter if I may say so myself. But other than that, you have a good head on your shoulders, and you're kind."

Hermione frowned, unsure where the woman was going with this.

"I want to ask a favor of you." said Narcissa, her eyes were wide and pleading, so unlike how she normally was, "I want you to keep an eye on Draco. He hasn't been himself lately, with Lucius gone and the induction. I worry about him."

"I worry about him, too." said Hermione. "You don't have to ask me to look after him, Narcissa, I would have done it whether or not you asked me to."

"You really are such a sweet girl." the woman said, eyes shining.

* * *

"Are you ready?"

Theodore Nott stood at her door at half past six in the evening the day after she had arrived at Malfoy Manor. He was clad in black robes, as was she, both of them looking as though they were headed to a funeral. Hermione took in a breath of air, sighing heavily.

"I'm scared." she admitted, placing her wand inside her robe pocket.

"I am too." he said, coming to stand behind her as she sat on her vanity. "But it's something we have to do." She nodded somberly, allowing him to help her up from the seat.

A knock came from the door, drawing both their attention. Draco was now standing at the entrance to her room, dressed similarly and looking nervous.

"We should be going." he said, motioning for them to follow him. She obliged, walking behind him and in front of Theo, as they made their way to the Manor ballroom, which had been converted into a meeting place for the Dark Lord and his followers.

They were met at the door by Narcissa, who was looking as anxious as she felt. She ushered them inside, locking the door behind her.

Almost instantly, Hermione felt as if she was in the presence of a hundred dementors. There, sitting in what looked like it could be a throne, was the Dark Lord, his scarlet eyes glowing from the other end of the room. Around the room were his Death Eaters, looking as though they were there as an audience, there were about thirty or so of them, clad in masks and dark robes.

"Welcome …" he rasped. "Come forward, my children."

The three obeyed, coming to a halt about ten feet before him. Hermione looked straight ahead, making sure that her mind was closed off entirely.

"It pleases me that ones so young wish to pledge their loyalty to me." the Dark Lord hissed. His voice was soft, somehow, Hermione though it sounded like a snake slithering across a stone floor. "State your names."

"Draco Lucius Malfoy"

"Hermione Mira Black Dagworth-Granger"

"Theodore Nott"

Their voices echoed throughout the room.

"Do you pledge your loyalty to your Dark Lord, and only to your Dark Lord?"

"I do." they chorused. Hermione's heart was beating so hard that she almost did not notice the tell-tale sign of Legilimency on her mind. Thankfully, her defenses were already up. All the Dark Lord would see were flashes of tea with Narcissa, her hugging her mother goodbye, and several memories of her childhood running through her mind. His presence left her as quickly as it came.

"Hermione." he hissed. She stood straighter, looking at his hideous face.

"Yes, my Lord?" she asked.

"You have no one to pledge your name, unlike Draco and Theodore. Why should you be honored with the privilege of becoming one of my Death Eaters? What is there for you to gain?"

Hermione did not waste a moment to reply. "Power, my Lord." she said, her voice unwavering. "I offer my magic and my might to you, as your loyal follower, in hopes to see the Wizarding World restored to its former glory. There is only one I believe powerful enough to do that, and I kneel before him in servitude."

"Well said, my dear." said the Dark Lord, smiling. It was a horrible thing, his smile. It looked like the face of a young boy who found joy in killing garden gnomes.

"Kneel, my children, to receive my mark."

The fell on one knee, lifting their sleeves to expose the skin of their left arms.

The pain was instantaneous.

It felt as if a hot poker iron was being pressed into her arm. The burning was not the only thing. The Dark Mark's magic flowed into their veins, as if it was tainting their blood with its essence. Hermione felt as if she was under the _Cruciatus_ , only stronger. She bit down on her lip to stop herself from screaming until she tasted blood. Her skin was coated in a fine sheen of sweat and it only kept getting worse. Hermione watched, in pain and morbid curiosity as the Mark appeared on her arm, the swirling snake slithering down the length of her forearm. She willed herself to remain kneeling, digging her nails into her palm in an effort to stay upright.

"Rise, Death Eaters." Voldemort finally said, withdrawing his magic.

They stood unsteadily, facing the Dark Lord with expressions of pain and fear.

* * *

Hermione woke from her nightmare with a start. The sudden movement caused her to wince in pain. She remembered suddenly where she was, and why it felt like her body was being pierced with a thousand needles at the same time. Tears began falling from her face against her will.

"What's wrong?" someone whispered from her right.

Hermione tried to scream, only to have her mouth covered by a rough hand. A lamp by her bed was suddenly lit, filling the room with a soft yellow glow.

Draco Malfoy was standing over her, his eyes wide and tired looking. "Don't scream, it's just me."

Hermione nodded, pulling his hand away from her mouth. The movement made her wince again in pain.

"Why are you here?" she rasped.

"I recovered before you did." he said, looking at her worriedly. "You've been asleep for two days."

At her bewildered look, he began to explain. "The effects of Marking are different with every person. I woke up yesterday, Theo woke this morning, but he's still resting.

"Drink this." he said, passing a vial to her. "Pain killer."

She drank it greedily, not minding the acrid taste that filled her mouth because of it. The effects were immediate, numbing the pain away. Along with he numbing, she began to feel light headed.

"You need to rest." she said, laying a hand on Draco's arm sleepily.

"I have to watch over you." he said stubbornly.

"Don't worry … about me …" she said, fighting off the way her eyelids were threatening to shut.

"Just sleep, Mione." he said, she twined her fingers in his just as she drifted off.

She woke several times in the night, only to find that Draco had not moved from where he was. He had moved a chair to the side of her bed resting his head in his arm on the mattress as he slept. His other hand was otherwise occupied, his fingers holding on to hers as they slept. She gazed at him fondly, brushing away a lock of hair that had fallen onto his face. She could see the Dark Mark peeking from under his sleeve, looking out of place on his pale skin.

She fiddled with the pendant under her clothes, muttering a few words under her breath as she held it, as if talking to it.

 _"Inducted."_ she whispered. _"Recovering."_

* * *

"Where's Draco?" she asked Theo when she finally came down to eat. It was lunch time, but even then, she and her friend were the only ones present in the dining room. Hermione took a seat next to Theo, who seemed to be halfway through his meal.

"The Dark Lord called him, Narcissa, and Bellatrix this morning." said Theo. "They haven't left the room since then."

"How are you?" she asked, as she looked at the food prepared for them Her stomach churned at the sight of it, as if protesting even the mere thought of eating. She poured herself a glass of water instead.

"As well as I could be." Theo said, smiling weakly. "You?"

"Just as well as you, I guess." she said. "What do we do now?"

"I don't think there's much we _can_ do." Theo said. "We can't Apparate yet, so we're no use on missions."

"I'm supposed to get my license in September." she said.

"Lucky," groaned Theo, "Draco and I have to wait an entire year."

The two were interrupted by a flutter of wings. A barn owl had entered the room through an open window, landing on the dining table. Tied ti its leg were three Hogwarts envelopes. Hermione retrieved the letters and fed the owl a few bits of bread. It squawked pleasantly before flying away.

"Guess this means we're in for a trip to Diagon Alley." Theo said, waving his letter around.

"Theo," Hermione said in a strangled whisper, " _Theo!"_

"What's gotten into you?" he asked, brows furrowing in confusion.

 _"Those are the OWL results!"_ she screeched.

Theo dropped the envelope as if he had just been burned. "Bloody hell, I forgot about those."

Hermione held her own envelope in her shaking hand, "We'll open in together, alright?"

He nodded, looking just as serious as she. With shaking hands, she tore open the seal and took out the parchment tucked inside.

"How did you do?" Theo asked, trying to sneak a look at her parchment.

 _"Dix."_ she whispered.

""Excuse me?" said Theo, looking flabbergasted.

" _Dix,_ Theo." she said again. " _Ten!_ I got ten Outstandings!"

"Blimey, Hermione, congratulations!" said Theo brightly.

"How did you do?" she asked, genuinely interested.

"Not as much as you." he joked. "I only got five."

"That isn't bad at all!" Hermione grinned. "Oh, this is the best news."

"Nice change of things, yeah?" Theo said. "Oi!"

Hermione jumped, startled at his sudden exclamation. "Why did you —"

Her attention was drawn to the figure in the entry way. Draco stood there, looking tired and weary, his eyes looking red.

"Mate!" Theo said, showing Draco his envelope, "OWL results are in."

"Cool." Draco said, not moving from where he stood. "Hermione, can I have a word?"

Hermione stood, flashing a look at Theo as she got out of her seat. "What's wrong, Draco?"

"Let's go to your room." he said weakly. Hermione grew even more concerned as she neared him, he looked worse up close. She guided him out of the dining hall, just before she turned to look at Theo, who was mirroring her look of worry on his face.

"What's wrong, Draco?" she asked again, after sitting him down on her bed. He bent his head, covering his face with his hands. Hermione laid a hand on his back comfortingly.

"You can tell me." she said softly.

"He's going to kill me." Draco rasped, his voice muffled by his hands. Hermione's hand stiffened against him.

 _"What?"_ she hissed, fear clutching at her heart.

"No, not like that." he said, "He might as well just Avada me, though."

"Don't say that!" Hermione said fiercely. "What did he tell you?"

"He gave me a task." he said shakily. "It's impossible. I'll die if I fail, if I don't, he'll kill me anyways. _Fuck._ Hermione, what am I supposed to do?"

"What's the task?" she said urgently, alarmed by the despair in his voice.

Draco shook his head in anguish, "I can't tell you … if he finds out I did … he'll kill me… he'll kill me…."

Hermione wrenched Draco's hands away from his face, forcing him to look at her. "He wont find out." she said, her voice serious.

"You can't know that." Draco said incredulously, "The Dark Lord —"

"Won't find out." she repeated. "Trust me."

She could see him sag in surrender. His next words chilled Hermione to the bone.

"He wants me to kill Dumbledore."

* * *

Draco had gone, mostly because of her incessant nagging. He had hesitantly gone back to his room, after countless assurances from Hermione that everything would be alright and they would sort things out together. She found herself alone in her room, once again whispering to the pendant around her neck.

 _"Task. Murder. APWBD."_ she said, the necklace's silver shone brightly with the words before fading. Moments later, it warmed up in her hand, new words forming on the surface.

 _"Noted. Do as you must."_

She dropped the necklace just as a knock sounded from her door. Theo stood there, looking at her worriedly.

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

"Yes," she said quickly, rising from the bed, "everything's fine, Theo."

"Why was Draco —?"

"It's nothing." she said, waving him off.

"Oh, alright then." he said, "Well … I'm off. I can't leave the house for too long, I'm the only one left to keep it up nowadays."

Hermione nodded in understanding, moving to hug her friend goodbye. "Be safe."

"You too, alright? Keep an eye on Draco." She nodded, watching her friend disappear down the hall.

* * *

"Morning." Hermione said to the only person in the dining hall the next morning. Bellatrix Lestrange painted quite the picture, eating jam and toast with her feet propped on the table. She looked up when Hermione revealed her presence, smiling at the girl.

"Good morning, niece." Bellatrix said, in a grin that seemed more like a smile. "This seems to be the first time we've met."

"So it is, Aunt Bellatrix." Hermione said, smiling. The expression on her face betrayed the feeling of hate that threatened to burst out of her chest at the mere sight of the woman. "May I join you?"

"How is dear Uncle Alphard?" Bellatrix asked, "Still a Muggle lover?"

"I would not be here if he was." Hermione smirked, "Let's just say I changed his mind on a few issues."

"And Lyra? Why are they not here? Fighting alongside us?" It almost seemed like she was being interrogated.

"You know how they are," she shrugged, "Grandfather has never been much of a fighter, and Mother can barely hurt a fly."

"Let's hope you're not as weak willed as they are, then." Bellatrix's eyes flashed with something one could only describe as ferocity. Hermione equalled the woman's intense gaze, not allowing herself to be pushed down.

"You will find, Aunty, that I most certainly am not." she promised.

To her complete and utter surprise, Bellatrix laughed. It was a mad, cackling sort of laughter that filled the room and seemed to echo through the Manor. "I like you, girl." she said, "You remind me of … well, me!" Another peal of laughter rang out, making Hermione more uncomfortable. She didn't want to be like her Aunt at all.

"Bella?" Narcissa Malfoy had appeared in the room, dressed as if she were going somewhere.

"Is it time already, sister?" Bellatrix asked wearily, twirling a knife in between her fingertips.

"Yes, Bella, we have to go." said the lady of the hose, glancing at Hermione for a fraction of a second before taking her leave.

"Sorry to cut our chat short, darling niece. We'll continue this once I get back." she rose from the chair lazily, kicking it back with such force that it toppled over.

"Have a good day, _Hermion_ e."

* * *

The days at Malfoy Manor were long and lonely. Draco had chosen to look himself in his room, claiming that he was busy every time she tried knocking on his door. She had once again resorted to busying herself in the library, scanning through old texts that may somehow be of help to Draco's task. If Dumbledore had told her to proceed with the task, he must have already had something planned.

She was reading a book on the First Wizarding War when she chanced upon the short chapter regarding escape routes. Her heart raced as quickly as her legs did as she ran through the halls of the Manor, coming to a halt in front of Draco's door. She rapped her knuckles on the wood loudly, the sound echoing down the hall.

"Go away!" shouted the voice from inside.

"You are going to let me in, Draco, or so help me I will knock this door down with every curse I know." she yelled, knocking on the wood again.

She kept knocking incessantly until she heard a shuffle of feet on the other side of the door, and the sound of a lock being undone. The door opened, revealing an exhausted looking boy, his eyes were rimmed in dark circles and he looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"You look like death." she pointed out, shoving her way inside.

"I didn't say you could come in." he said, glaring at her.

"I don't care either way." she said, laying the book down on his desk. His room looked exactly like one would have imagined it; it was as if Salazar Slytherin himself had lived there. Green and silver lined the walls, as well as his bed, posters of Quidditch players were Spellotaped here and there, as well as a few pictures of them and their friends over the years.

"Hermione, I'm busy." he tried to say, but she cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"I found a possible way to do it." she said, motioning to the book. He was beside her in seconds, leaning over to read the article as if his life depended on it, which it actually did.

"A Vanishing Cabinet? But where —?" he trailed off, seeming to remember something. "Montague?"

She nodded her head, glad that he understood. "The one from last year. You were the one who found him, didn't you? All we have to do is find its twin and —"

"I know where it is."

Hermione stopped talking abruptly, staring at him in shock. "You know…?"

"We need to get to Knockturn Alley."

* * *

They had been unable to convince Narcissa that they would be fine going to Diagon Alley on their own. The woman insisted on accompanying them, repeatedly saying that they were too young and it was too dangerous.

That was how they found themselves in Madam Malkins, being fitted for new uniforms instead of doing what they were out to do. Draco was being fussy, which Hermione understood, but it was getting quite tiresome to hear him complain about pins.

". . . not a child, in case you haven't noticed, Mother. I am perfectly capable of doing my shopping alone."

Madam Malkin clucked reproachfully, "Now, dear, your mother's quite right, none of us is supposed to go wandering around on our own anymore, it's nothing to do with being a child —"

"Watch where you're sticking that pin, will you!"

"Honestly, Draco," Hermione said impatiently, "if you stopped struggling for just a minute we would have been done ages ago."

But Draco was not listening to her, instead his attention had been drawn to the mirror, where the faces of Potter, Weasley, and Longbottom were reflected. She saw his grey eyes narrow.

"If you're wondering what the smell is, Mother, three Blood Traitors just walked in," said Draco.

"I don't think there's any need for language like that!" said Madam Malkin, scurrying out from behind the clothes rack holding a tape measure and a wand. "And I don't want wands drawn in my shop either!" she added hastily, for a glance toward the door had shown Potter and Weasley both standing there with their wands out.

Narcissa strolled out from behind the clothes rack, glaring at the group of boys who had appeared. "Put those away," she said coldly to Harry and Ron. "If you attack my son again, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever do."

"Really?" said Potter, taking a step forward."Going to get a few Death Eater pals to do us in, are you?"

Madam Malkin squealed and clutched at her heart. "Really, you shouldn't accuse — dangerous thing to say — wands away, please!"

Potter did not lower his wand, and Narcissa smiled unpleasantly. "I see that being Dumbledore's favorite has given you a false sense of security, Harry Potter. But Dumbledore won't always be there to protect you."

Potter looked mockingly all around the shop. "Wow . . . look at that . . . he's not here now! So why not have a go? They might be able to find you a double cell in Azkaban with your loser of a husband."

Draco made an angry movement towards Potter, only to be stopped by Hermione, who held him back with a look of warning.

"Don't you dare talk to my mother like that, Potter!"he snarled.

"It's all right, Draco," said Narcissa, restraining him with her thin white fingers upon his shoulder. "I expect Potter will be reunited with dear Sirius before I am reunited with Lucius."

Hermione's fingers twitched angrily at the sound of Sirius being mentioned. It seemed to anger Potter just as well. He raised his wand higher.

"Harry, no!" moaned Longbottom, grabbing his arm and attempting to push it down by his side.

"Think, you mustn't … you'll be in such trouble …"

Madam Malkin dithered for a moment on the spot, then seemed to decide to act as though nothing was happening in the hope that it wouldn't. She bent toward Draco, who was still glaring at Potter.

"I think this left sleeve could come up a little bit more, dear, let me just —" Hermione's eyes widened as the woman moved to raise the cloth.

"Ouch!" bellowed Draco, slapping her hand away. "Watch where you're putting your pins, woman! Mother — I don't think I want these anymore —" He pulled the robes over his head and threw them onto the floor at Madam Malkin's feet.

"You're right, Draco," said Narcissa, with a contemptuous glance at Hermione, "now I know the kind of scum that shops here. . . . We'll do better at Twilfitt and Tatting's. Come, now, Hermione."

With that, the three strode off, Draco taking care to band as hard as he could into Weasley on his way out. Narcissa's mood had been dampened considerably, she was snapping at them impatiently by the time they had collected all the things they needed for school. When she wasn't looking, too put out by the altercation with Potter, Hermione and Draco slipped away, running off into an alley way they hoped led to the place they were looking for.

They hurried past the Weasley Joke shop, careful to hide their faces with their hood as they passed. Draco led her through the maze of passage ways until they found the worn down sign that bore the name Knockturn Alley.

"There." Hermione whispered, seeing the shop that they were looking for. Borgin and Burkes sold a wide variety of sinister objects, one of them may just help them with Draco's task. They went in, the bell ringing as the door slammed shut behind them. She left Draco to talk to the oily-haired, stooping man named Borgin, and proceeded to wander around the shop, careful not to touch anything as she did.

She could hear Draco arguing with Borgin about how to repair the cabinet, Borgin sounded reluctant to commit to the deal. Hermione strode back to the front of the store, glaring at the man intensely.

"I hope you reconsider, Mr Borgin," she said sweetly, "after all, we _do_ have other means to make you comply."

She nodded to Draco, who raised his sleeve, showing the man the Mark that swirled angrily on his skin. Borgin's face contorted in fear at the sight of it.

"Tell anyone," said Draco, "and there will be retribution. You know Fenrir Greyback? He's a family friend. He'll be dropping in from time to time to make sure you're giving the problem your full attention."

"There will be no need for —"

"I'll decide that," said Draco. "Well, I'd better be off. And don't forget to keep that one safe, I'll need it."

"Perhaps you'd like to take it now?"

"No, of course I wouldn't, you stupid little man, how would I look carrying that down the street? Just don't sell it."

"Of course not . . . sir."

"Not a word to anyone, now, Mr Borgin." she called out, her soft voice ringing through the room, "I would _hate_ to see what would become of you if word of this slipped out."

"Naturally, naturally," murmured Borgin, bowing to the both of them.

Next moment, the bell over the door tinkled loudly as they exited the shop, with Draco looking quite pleased with himself.

"I told you not to buy the necklace." she said under her breath. "It won't work. We should just stick to the plan."

" _I_ will decide what will and won't work, Hermione." Draco said. "It's my task."

She rested a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "You don't have to do this alone, Draco."

"I don't want to drag you into this." he said, frowning. "If the Dark Lord found out I've been receiving help —"

"I'm already in this, you idiot." she said, slapping him gently on the arm. "We're doing this together whether you like it or not."

He looked down at her, gratitude swimming in his eyes as he nodded in agreement.

"Let's go, before Mother calls the Aurors in to report us missing."

* * *

 **a/n:** Some of you guys hoped i wouldn't kill Srius, I know, but I feel his death is somehow essential to the whole plot of Harry Potter. Also, I noticed a lot of you hate Ron in this fic, I know I made him out to bee an ass, but I genuinely hate him in the books, too, which is something I think I'll get a lot of hate for if I expounded on it.


	39. Chapter 39 : Cabinets and Clubs

**Chaprer 39 : Cabinets and Clubs**

Hermione sat next to Draco in the carriage on the Hogwarts Express. They had boarded the train with a few hasty farewells to Narcissa. Theo sat in from of them alongside Blaise, who seemed to be the only one who did not mind the tension in the tiny carriage.

"How was your summer, Hermione?" Daphne asked obliviously, smiling at her best friend.

"It was … boring. There was not much to do, really." she lied.

"Oi, mate." Blaise said in Draco's direction, "shouldn't you be going around harassing first years by now?"

"I've decided I have better things to do with my time." he replied coldly. Hermione glanced at him worriedly, he really was acting quite like a angst ridden teenager. Before she could chide him for it though, the compartment door slid open again and a breathless third-year girl stepped inside.

"I'm supposed to deliver these to Blaise Zabini and Hermione Dagworth-Granger." she faltered, as her eyes met the glares the Slytherins were giving her for interrupting them. She was holding out two scrolls of parchment tied with violet ribbon. Hermione took the scrolls, handing Blaise his.

"You may leave." she said to the girl, who had remained rooted to the spot, seemingly stupefied.

"What is it?" Draco demanded as Hermione unrolled the scroll.

"An invitation." said Hermione, who passed it to him.

 _Miss Hermione Dagworth-Granger,_

 _I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C._

 _Sincerely, Professor H. E. F. Slughorn_

"Who's Professor Slughorn?" asked Blaise, looking perplexedly at his own invitation.

"I think he might be Umbridge's replacement." Hermione said. "I suppose we'll have to go, won't we?" She glanced at Draco, who did not pay mind to the fact that she was leaving. Blaise led the way, speculating the reasons why they were being called upon along the way.

When they reached compartment C, they saw at once that they were not Slughorn's only invitees, two seventh year boys and Ginny Weasley were sitting in the compartment along with the professor. He was a portly man with balding hair and bright eyes, who looked quite excited at their arrival.

"Miss Dagworth-Granger and Mr Zabini, I presume?" he said, shaking their hands, "Sit, sit. Do you know everyone?" Blaise and Hermione slid into the compartment across Slughorn and the Weaslette. She took the seat between Blaise and a largy, wiry-haired seventh year, who smirked at her in greeting.

"This is Cormac McLaggen, Marcus Belby, and Ginevra Weasley." said Slughorn animatedly "Let's wait a few moments, the last members of our party should be arriving shortly.

At that moment, the compartment door slid open again, to reveal, of course, Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom. The professor jumped up in excitement as another round of introductions began.

"Well now, this is most pleasant," said Slughorn cozily. "A chance to get to know you all a little better. Here, take a napkin. I've packed my own lunch; the trolley, as I remember it, is heavy on licorice wands, and a poor old man's digestive system isn't quite up to such things. . . . Pheasant, Belby?" Belby started and accepted what looked like half a cold pheasant.

"I was just telling young Marcus here that I had the pleasure of teaching his Uncle Damocles," Slughorn told Potter and Longbottom, now passing around a basket of rolls. "Outstanding wizard, outstanding, and his Order of Merlin most well-deserved. Do you see much of your uncle, Marcus?"

"Not . . . not much of him, no," said Belby. Slughorn gave him a cold smile and turned to the boy next to him instead.

"Now, you, Cormac," said Slughorn, "I happen to know you see a lot of your Uncle Tiberius, because he has a rather splendid picture of the two of you hunting nogtails in, I think, Norfolk?"

"Ah, you know Bertie and Rufus too?" beamed Slughorn, now offering around a small tray of pies; somehow, Belby was missed out. "Now tell me . . ."

Hermione glanced at Blaise as this went on, looking incredulous at how things were proceeding. This man could not be anything but a Slytherin, he was pulling at strings of students, those he deemed promising, or who had parents or relatives in power, to gain power for himself.

"And you, Miss Dagworth-Granger, as a Potions Master myself, you could imagine my delight upon finding that I was to be teaching the daughter of Hector Dagworth-Granger himself! If I may, my dear, have you inherited any of your father's prowess in potion making?"

Hermione smiled at the professor, "Not wanting to brag, Professor," she said, "I think I may have learned a thing or two from my father, yes."

Blaise snorted next to her, drawing the attention of Slughorn to him. "Have you anything to say against that, Mr Zabini?"

"She's lying, sir." Blaise said, ignoring the look she was sending his way.

"Oh?" Slughorn asked, eyebrows raised.

"She's top of our class, sir." Blaise said proudly, "Ten Oustandings in our OWLs, and she takes Advanced Potions with Professor Snape."

Hermione glared at her friend angrily, though he did not seem to care one bit.

"Ho, ho!" Slughorn cried, "It seems we have a prodigy on our hands!"

"I'm just very diligent, sir." she said, in between gritted teeth.

"Now, Harry Potter!" For once, Hermione was relieved to have the attention on Potter instead of her. The afternoon wore on with more anecdotes about illustrious wizards Slughorn had taught, all of whom had been delighted to join what he called the "Slug Club" at Hogwarts. Finally the train emerged from yet another long misty stretch into a red sunset, and Slughorn looked around, blinking in the twilight.

"Good gracious, it's getting dark already! I didn't notice that they'd lit the lamps! You'd better go and change into your robes, all of you. McLaggen, you must drop by and borrow that book on nogtails. Harry, Blaise, Hermione — any time you're passing. Same goes for you, miss," he twinkled at Ginny. "Well, off you go, off you go!"

Hermione and Blaise were out of the carriage first, the two shooting dark looks at Potter and his friends as they turned to leave.

"That was the most horrible thing I've ever experienced in my life." she groaned as she returned to the Slytherin carriage, to take her seat next to Draco. He looked just as he did when they had left, still contemplating something or another.

"If I had to hear one more thing about The Chosen One, I'll chop my ears off." said Blaise in agreement, he was having quite a bit of trouble closing the carriage door, which seemed to be jammed. Finally, the door slammed shut. This seemed to bring Draco out of his reverie.

"Potter was there?" he asked, suddenly alert.

Something overhead thudded, making Hermione and Draco look up

"Yeah," said Blaise, "apparently, Slughorn's got a club where he invites students he likes and who're from well known families to join."

"Who else did he invite?" Draco yawned sleepily. She smirked at him in amusement, patting her lap for him to lie his head on. He looked at her in surprise, as if asking whether she was sure, she nodded, smiling. Draco stretched out on the carriage seat, resting his head on her lap. Hermione looked up to find Theo staring at the too of them in interest, Blaise, as always, was oblivious, finding nothing out of the ordinary.

"McLaggen from Gryffindor." said Blaise.

"Oh yeah, his uncle's big in the Ministry," said Malfoy.

"— someone else called Belby, from Ravenclaw and Longbottom, Potter, and that Weasley girl," finished Zabini.

"He invited Longbottom?" Draco said, laughing coldly. "What's Longbottom got to interest Slughorn?"

"His parents were high ranking Aurors back in the day," Hermione said softly, "before, _you know."_

Draco seemed quiet at the sound of her voice. He took her hand, guiding it to his hair, as if wanting her to run her fingers through it. She obliged, thinking that he reminds her much of Crookshanks, who was looking at them from the floor angrily, as if he were jealous.

"Potter, precious Potter, obviously he wanted a look at _'the Chosen One,'_ " sneered Malfoy, "but that Weasley girl! What's so special about her?"

"A lot of boys like her, I heard." Hermione said absently. "Even you think she's goodlooking, don't you, Blaise?"

"I wouldn't touch a filthy little blood traitor like her whatever she looked like," said Blaise coldly.

"Oh, posh." she said, "It's not like you'll marry her." Blaise just shrugged in reply.

"Well, I pity Slughorn's taste. Maybe he's going a bit senile. Shame, my father always said he was a good wizard in his day. My father used to be a bit of a favorite of his. Slughorn probably hasn't heard I'm on the train, or —"

"I wouldn't bank on an invitation," said Blaise. "He asked me about Theo's father when we first arrived. They used to be old friends, apparently, but when he heard he'd been caught at the Ministry he didn't look happy, and Nott didn't get an invitation, did he? I don't think Slughorn's interested in Death Eaters."

Draco looked angry, and Theo seemed a bit surprised at the mention of his father.

"Well, who cares what he's interested in? What is he, when you come down to it? Just some stupid teacher." Draco yawned ostentatiously. "I mean, I might not even be at Hogwarts next year, what's it matter to me if some fat old has-been likes me or not?"

"What do you mean, you might not be at Hogwarts next year?" asked Blaise, eyes narrowing at the boy.

"Well, you never know," said Draco with the ghost of a smirk. "I might have — er — moved on to bigger and better things."

"Do you mean — _Him_?" Theo, Hermione shared a look as Draco went on.

"Mother wants me to complete my education, but personally, I don't see it as that important these days. I mean, think about it. . . . When the Dark Lord takes over, is he going to care how many O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s anyone's got? Of course he isn't. . . . It'll be all about the kind of service he received, the level of devotion he was shown."

"And you think you'll be able to do something for him?" asked Blaise. "Sixteen years old and not even fully qualified yet?"

"I've just said, haven't I? Maybe he doesn't care if I'm qualified. Maybe the job he wants me to do isn't something that you need to be qualified for," said Draco quietly. Hermione pulled on his hair vehemently, trying to get him to shut up.

"I can see Hogwarts," said Draco, clearly relishing the effect he had created on Blaise's face as he pointed out of the blackened window. "We'd better get our robes on."

They moved to get their luggage, and something sounded, like a rush of air from over head. Both she and Draco had heard it. They looked up curiously, frowns appearing on their faces. They both shrugged, pulling on the robes instead. As the train slowed to a jerky stop, they fastened their traveling cloaks around their necks.

At last, with a final lurch, the train came to a complete halt. Greg threw the door open and muscled his way out into a crowd of second years, punching them aside; Vince and Blaise followed.

"You go on," Hermione told Theo, after sharing a look with Draco, "I just want to check something."

Draco nodded to his friend. "I'll stay with her." Theo left hesitantly, shutting the door behind him.

 _"Petrificus Totalus!"_ Draco shouted, pointing his wand at the luggage rack above them. As though in slow motion, he toppled out of the luggage rack and fell, with an agonizing, floor-shaking crash, at Draco's feet, his Invisibility Cloak trapped beneath him, his whole body revealed with his legs still curled absurdly into the cramped kneeling position. Draco smiled broadly next to her.

"I thought so," he said jubilantly. "I heard Greg's trunk hit you. And I thought I saw something white flash through the air after Blaise came back. . . ."

"You really need to learn to mind your own business, Potter." Hermione said, glaring at the boy.

"You didn't hear anything I care about, Potter. But while I've got you here . . ."

And he stamped, hard, on Potter's face. She was sure she heard his nose break; blood spurted everywhere. As Draco moved to repeat the action, Hermione held him back.

"We don't have time." she whispered. Draco nodded begrudgingly, dragged the cloak out from under Potter's immobilized body and threw it over him.

"I don't reckon they'll find you till the train's back in London," he said quietly. "See you around, Potter . . . or not."

"You really seem quite prone to violence these days." she muttered under her breath as the two walked briskly out of the train to where the carriages were waiting for them.

Draco raised a brow at her, "You expect me to retain a calm facade with everything going on?"

"No," she said, rolling her eyes, "but I expect you to be more cautious. No one ishould suspect we've been inducted. We're supposed to be the eyes and ears of the Dark Lord as long as we're in the castle, you know this."

"That's what you're supposed to be doing." Draco said darkly as he helped her board an empty carriage, "My task is to pay for my father's mistakes."

"Draco … " Hermione said, sensing the anguish in his voice, "it doesn't have to be your task alone, we've talked about this."

"I know." he said, as the carriage began pulling itself, "I just don't want you risking anything to help me, you should know better."

"You can be so thick sometimes." Hermione said, "I'll always be here to help, Draco."

"You have to admit, though, it felt good to watch Potter bleed just a bit."

Hermione laughed, the sound echoing through the night.

* * *

Their first class of the year was Defense Against the Dark Arts with Snape, which she found was almost exactly like her private lessons, except on a larger scale, and with less accomplished partners. Her classmates all struggled with the first task assigned to them — nonverbal spells. Hermione feigned interest in trying to cast a few spells, miscasting them on purpose one or few times, and allowing Daphne to get a few whispered spells in. It was generally an average class, considering the fact that she should have been bored out of her mind.

After her break in between classes was Arithmancy, which she still took with Theo. Professor Vector had assigned them with an armful of homework for the week, which she planned out haphazardly, there were honestly more things to worry about than homework. Draco, who had less subjects than her, had already spent his breaks searching for the Vanishing Cabinet. Throughout Vector's lecture, she wondered whether Draco had found the cabinet or not.

She got her answer in a small nod of the head from the blonde boy once she and Theo had entered the Potions ccorridor. Her chest filled with nervousness at the thought that he was going to begin the first steps of the plan.

Of all the Slythherins, only the four of them had chosen and were qualified enough to take Potions for their sixth year. It seemed that the class consisted of them, four Ravenclaws, one Hufflepuff, and a three of Gryffindors, which sadly included Potter and Weasley.

Before she could say anything to Theo about how Potter had managed to get into Potions with his abysmal work the year before, the dungeon door opened and Slughorn's belly preceded him out of the door. He greeted Hermione, Blaise and Potter more enthusiastically than the rest of his students as they filed inside. Hermione took a seat at the workplace at the very front of the class, with Draco taking the seat next to her, Blaise and Theo claimed the workspace on the opposite side of theirs.

Unusually, the dungeon was already full of vapors and odd smells coming from a set of cauldrons of varying sizes and metals at the teacher's desk.

"Now then, now then, now then," said Slughorn, whose massive outline was quivering through the many shimmering vapors. "Scales out, everyone, and potion kits, and don't forget your copies of Advanced Potion-Making. . . ."

After Potter's interruption of the class, Slughorn continued, waiting for him and Weasley to return to their seats from the supply cabinet.

"Now then," said Slughorn, returning to the front of the class and inflating his already bulging chest so that the buttons on his waistcoat threatened to burst off, "I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of thing you ought to be able to make after completing your N.E.W.T.s. You ought to have heard of 'em, even if you haven't made 'em yet. Anyone tell me what this one is?"

Hermione's hand rose in the air before anyone even dared trying to answer. She had a perfect view of the cauldron from where she was seated, and its crystal clear coloring told her exactly what it was in an instant.

"It's Veritaserum, sir, directly translating to Truth serum. It's colorless, odorless, and forces the drinker to tell the truth."

"Very good, very good!" said Slughorn happily. "Now," he continued, pointing at the cauldron nearest the Ravenclaw table, "this one here is pretty well known. . . . Who can — ?"

Once again, her hand rose up lazily, making the professor smile widely at her.

"It's Polyjuice Potion, sir." she said, glancing at the mud-like substance in the second cauldron.

"Excellent, excellent! Now, this one here . . . yes, my dear?" said Slughorn, looking expectantly at her.

"Amortentia, Professor," she said, "the most powerful love potion in the word." A few Ravenclaw girls drew nearer to the third cauldron at her words.

"Quite right! You recognized it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?"

"And the steam rising in characteristic spirals," said Hermione knowingly, "it's supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us, I smell old books, roses, and sandal—"

She turned her head away abruptly, feeling the blood rush to her face. Why had she said that?

"Brilliant, brilliant!" chortled Slughorn, as if he had not noticed Hermione's sudden silence, "It isn't a wonder why Mr Zabini sings such high praises of you, Hermione, though it's to be expected from the daughter of Hector Dagworth-Granger himself! Take twenty points to Slytherin, child"

Draco leaned over the table to whisper something to Blaise, both of them sharing a snigger, no doubt at her expense.

"Amortentia doesn't really create love, of course. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room — oh yes," he said, nodding gravely at Draco and Theo, who were smirking skeptically.

"Sir, you haven't told us what's in this one," said Ernie Macmillan, pointing at a small black cauldron standing on Slughorn's desk. The potion inside was the color of molten gold, large drops jumped out of it, breaking the surface every once in a while.

"Yes. That. Well, that one, ladies and gentlemen, is a most curious little potion called Felix Felicis. I take it," he turned, smiling, "that you know what Felix Felicis does, Miss Dagworth-Granger?"

"It's also called Liquid Luck." she said, trying to get a better look at the potion, "It's possible one of the most difficult potions to brew in existence, even my father says so himself. If brewed correctly, the drinker will find that all their endeavors will succeed, at least until the potion wears off."

"I couldn't have said it any better myself!" Slughorn said merrily, "Another ten points to Slytherin!"

"Have you ever taken it, sir?" asked Michael Corner with great interest.

"Twice in my life," said Slughorn. "Once when I was twentyfour, once when I was fifty-seven. Two tablespoonfuls taken with breakfast. Two perfect days."

Hermione saw Draco inch forward to the table where the Felix Felicia was out of the corner of her eye, staring at the cauldron greedily.

"And that," said Slughorn, "is what I shall be offering as a prize in this lesson."

The silence in the room was palpable, every bubble and gurgle of the surrounding potions were maximized tenfold.

"One tiny bottle of Felix Felicis," said Slughorn, taking a minuscule glass bottle with a cork in it out of his pocket and showing it to them all. "Enough for twelve hours' luck. From dawn till dusk, you will be lucky in everything you attempt.

"So," said Slughorn, suddenly brisk, "how are you to win my fabulous prize? Well, by turning to page ten of Advanced PotionMaking. We have a little over an hour left to us, which should be time for you to make a decent attempt at the Draught of Living Death. I know it is more complex than anything you have attempted before, and I do not expect a perfect potion from anybody. The person who does best, however, will win little Felix here. Off you go!"

"We need to win." Draco whispered urgently to her as the rest of the class scrambled to begin their potions. She nodded in agreement.

"We're the best in our class," she said confidently, "between the two of us, one of us has to get the Draught perfectly."

"Have you ever brewed it before?"

"No," she said, frowning, "but I've watched my father do it. I think I might be able to remember a few tips to make things easier."

Draco nodded, his eyes blazing in intensity as they went to work.

The concentration within the room was almost tangible. She set her copy of _Advanced Potions_ on the book stand, opened to the instructions of the Draught of Living Death. All she could remember from her father were his own tricks to prepare the ingredients. nothing more.

She laboriously cut up her valerian roots diagonally, careful to have the portions sliced evenly. The infusion of Wormwood was simmering in her cauldron above a fire that had been measured to the exact height, and its flames the preferred color of blue. As soon as she added the powdered asphodel root, the potion bubbled, turning into a smooth, black-currant colored liquid, much to her delight.

The sophorous bean, just like the rest of Hogwarts supplies, were dried out and shriveled, making them difficult to slice. Her father had told her exactly what to do when ingredients weren't as fresh as they could be. She took out her silver knife, crushing the beans under the flat of the blade until they oozed out their green juices. She measured the juice by the teaspoon, watching as her concoction changed into a light lilac color.

She stirred the potion several times counterclockwise, just as the book stated, until her arm began to cramp up in her effort to achieve the colorless look that was written on the instructions. However, as Slughorn called for the class to stop, she could not get the lilac potion to lose its color. Her potion still had a faint lavender tinge to it as Slughoorn came to inspect her cauldron.

"Promising, Miss Dagworth-Granger!" Slughorn said with a smile, "It looks like you were just a few steps shy of achieving the perfect potion."

He then went on to peer into several other students cauldrons, none of them quite coming up to par with her own. Hope began building in her chest as the professor reached the last row of students. She was going to win — there was no possible chance that Weasley or Potter could have done better than she had.

But the look of incredulous delight that spread over Slughorn;s face as he peered into Potter's cauldron was _not_ what she had expected.

"Miss Dagworth-Granger, I believe you've met your match in Harry!" Slughorn exclaimed, "It was a difference made by just one step, but it's clear that Harry here surpassed your potion! Excellent, excellent, Harry! Good lord, it's clear you've inherited your mother's talent. She was a dab hand at Potions, Lily was! Here you are, then, here you are — one bottle of Felix Felicis, as promised, and use it well!" "

Hermione watched in horror as Slughorn passed the vial to Potter, who was looking at her tauntingly. Around her, her friends looked on with equal looks of shock and anger.

"He couldn't have!" Hermione said, still dumbfounded at how she had been bested by Potter, "He's an absolute _dunce_ at Potions! He couldn't have possibly gotten better just like that! I've had _years_ of training!"

Her mashed potatoes were becoming increasingly more mashed under her angry poking. Her friends nodded in agreement as the sounds of lunchtime in the Great Hall filled their ears.

"Do you think he cheated?" asked Blaise, glancing over at the Gryffindor table curiously.

"Of course he cheated." snapped Draco, beating her to it.

"How?" asked Blaise logically.

"I don't know." muttered Draco in frustration.

* * *

Hermione reported to Snape on Friday night, answering the professor's summons she had received earlier that evening. She rapped her knuckles on the door as it swung open to allow her in. The professor was in his usual seat, scribbling away at one thing or another behind his desk.

"Good evening, Professor." she said, expecting the silence that followed. She waited patiently until the man was done with his writing. Once he set his quill down, he twined his fingers together.

"Any progress with the task?" Snape asked, his voice low.

"Draco found the cabinet today, I still haven't seen it. I'm not sure how he's going to use the necklace that he bought, he seems reluctant to have me involved in handling it, but I'll try to get him to tell me more. Other than that, nothing else."

"I see." Snape said. "What of your stay at Malfoy Manor? Does anyone suspect?"

"Bellatrix seems keen on getting to know me." she said, "But no one suspects that I was there for any other reason."

The man nodded in understanding. "Professor Dumbledore is quite pleased with your integration into the ranks."

She remained quiet, not sure what her reply should be.

"We will not have any lessons today, although you may want to start reading on windless magic."

"Yes, sir." she said, "Oh, also sir, I'm not sure if it's of any relevance, but today in Potions, Slughorn assigned us to brew a Draught of Living Death … and Potter did his perfectly … even better than mine."

This information seemed to surprise Snape the most, causing his brow to twitch, "Potter? Are you quite sure we are talking about the same boy, Miss Dagworth-Granger?"

"Yes, sir. I couldn't believe it myself." she said, "Do you think something's out of the ordinary?"

"Most definitely," muttered Snape, "but it will need to be looked up on. I shall be sure to keep an eye on Potter, as should you."

"Yes, sir" she said.

"You may leave."

* * *

For the rest of the week's Potions lessons, Potter and Hermione were neck and neck through the class, both receiving praises from Slughorn, who had claimed that he had never had two more promising students in his class before. What irked Hermione was the fact that Potter's sudden brilliance in Potions went on the days Potter had a slightly better brew than hers, she sulked for hours on end, snapping at anyone who tried to talk to her.

The only thing that could take her mind off Potions was the other, more important thing that needed her attending to. Draco had showed her where he had hidden the Vanishing cabinet curing break between classes on Friday, surprising her when suddenly, a door appeared out of nowhere on the seventh floor corridor.

"It's called the Room of Hidden Things." Draco said, leading the way. All the things in the room seemed to look like accumulated piles of junk, a pile of clothes here, a statue there, various trinkets covered in years of dust.

Draco uncovered the cabinet, sending a cloud of dust flying, and her into a coughing fit, which elicited an apology from the boy. The cabinet looked exactly like the one in Borgin and Burke, except that it wasn't in the same condition. The door was crooked, hanging on one of its hinges, it was tipping to the right, and several of its cabinets were in need of serious work.

"Circe," she said, running a hand over the splintered wooden surface, "are you sure we can fix this?"

"Borgin said that it could be repaired as long as its main structure was intact." said Draco, "He's sending a few instructions once I'm able to send a detailed description of all its deficiencies."

"This might just work." Hermione thought aloud.

"Let's hope it does." muttered Draco.


	40. Chapter 40 : Closer

**Chapter 40 : Closer**

"I'm sorry Professor," Hermione said, smiling sweetly at the man as she passed him her vial of Wolfsbane Potion. "Did you say Monday? I have Advanced Potions that night."

Inwardly, she was beyond relieved that she finally had a reason to miss Slughorn's little dinners that he held every week. For the past three, she had begrudgingly attended, sitting through a few hours of nonsense and talking alongside Blaise, who seemed equally tormented by the Slug Club.

"Well, I'll ask Severus to push your lesson back a bit, it's already a shame that Harry won't be joining us again. To think that we would have to make up for your absence too, Hermione!" Slughorn said this as if it were the worst thing that could possibly happen to him.

Hermione smiled apologetically, "Professor Snape's schedule only permits him to hold his lessons for me at certain times of the week. I wouldn't want to inconvenience him by asking to rearrange his plans."

The professor seemed to wilt at her explanation, "Well, I daresay you aren't thoughtful, my dear," he said begrudgingly, "but you really _must_ be there next time! I'll ask Severus when your lessons will be so I can plan around them."

She hid her cringe with a small laugh that Slughorn received with his own booming laughter, "I will be sure to make time for you, Professor." she promised, as she left the Potions class room. She made a note to remind herself to have Snape give her lessons as often as possible.

"You're joking." Blaise said in disbelief, "I've got to deal with that bunch of idiots _myself_?"

Hermione smirked mischievously, "Don't worry, Blaise, I'm sure Sluggy will entertain you for the night."

"You're heartless." Blaise groaned. "I hope he's at least invited more students this time. Just a few girls is fine by me."

* * *

Hermione heard the screams echo through Hogsmeade, the sound tortured and shrill. It was coming from somewhere up the path to the castle. She left Daphne and Pansy in Honeydukes, padding through the snow as quick as she could to try and find out what had happened.

From afar, she could only see a figure floating in the air, arms outstretched in a way that could not have been normal. Several people were trying to pull the figure down unsuccessfully.

A sinking feeling took residence inside of her, and she quickly scanned the area. The town was covered in a blanket of snow, making everything easier to find, just as her eyes passed the Three Broomsticks, she saw him slip out the door, his white blonde hair looking as pale as the snow.

Upon seeing the floating figure in the air, he ducked into an alley quickly, pulling his hood up as he did. Hermione cursed under her breath, whipping her necklace out to whisper a few urgent instructions before following him.

 _"What in Circe were you thinking?"_ she hissed, making him jump at the sound. She cast a _Muffliato_ spell wordlessly around the two of them. He looked uneasy, the bags under his eyes were darker, and he looked thinner than he had since the start of school.

"I had to try it!" he said defensively.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she said angrily.

"I don't have to tell you everything." he snapped, "Besides, it didn't work."

"Of course it didn't," she said, "even if the package had reached Dumbledore, he's too cautious to be fooled by a cursed necklace."

"Well, I apologize if my plans just aren't as good as yours." he growled, turning around abruptly so that he was facing the alley wall. It would have been quite funny had the situation not been so tense.

"Draco, I thought we agreed to do this together." she said tiredly, all the anger seeming to have slipped away from her.

He kicked at the snow riotously as he turned around, as if it was going to make him feel better. "I just … I don't know. I just wanted to see if I could do it on my own. I really don't want you caught up in my shite."

She slapped him then. Hard enough to sting, but not enough to actually hurt him.

"You listen here, Draco Malfoy," she growled as he looked at her with eyes wide in surprise, "I'm helping you no matter what you do, and there's nothing you can bloody do about it. Get it inside that thick head of yours that I'm not leaving you to fend for yourself."

"Did you just slap me?" he asked dazedly, bringing a hand to his quickly reddening cheek.

"You're a blithering idiot." she said under her breath. "I thought you were supposed to be in detention with McGonagall?"

"I had Greg take some Polyjuice for me." he admitted. "It was an alibi I couldn't lose."

Hermione groaned in frustration. "Just … don't try anything rash anymore."

* * *

"Who was it?" Hermione asked upon entering Snape's office later that night.

"Katie Bell, a Gryffindor seventh year." the professor said, "Thankfully she was brought back to the castle in time to counteract the effects of the curse. It seems that young Draco's been feeling a little desperate lately."

"I'm working on that." she said with a sigh, "I have a feeling he thinks that he has something to prove, and my help isn't very helpful."

"The _Imperio_ Draco placed on Katie was well cast, it makes me wonder whether Lucius has been teaching his son illegal spells in his spare time."

"Like you haven't been teaching me?" asked Hermione.

"Anyways," drawled Snape, "we're going to be working on wandless magic tonight…."

* * *

"So," said Cormac McLaggen, facing her. His arm was draped over her chair and there was a pompous grin on his face that made her want to curse his mouth off. "I think it's rather obvious that you and I should go together, am I right?"

Hermione cursed Merlin to holy hell. She knew she should not have attended Slughorn's dinner that night. She spared a look at Blaise who was sitting next to her trying not to burst into a fit of laughter. The rest of the dinner party was talking animatedly, Slughorn was pushing Gwenog Jones to retell some World Cup story or another.

"Why is that?" she asked with a brittle smile, wishing that the pumpkin juice in her goblet was fire whiskey so that she could just drink the night away.

"Well, you're the best looking girl here, and I'm the best looking guy." he was interrupted by an incredulous snort coming from Blaise, who nonchalantly turned to the person next to him to talk about poisonous fumes and how they can affect a person's mind.

McLaggen carried on as if nothing had happened. "It would be a sin if we didn't go together to Slughorn's Christmas party, wouldn't it?"

"You seem to think quite well of yourself, Cormac." she said.

"I'd be lying if I said otherwise." he said, adjusting his tie.

"You're delusional." she said, rolling her eyes.

"If you're trying to say I'm crazy, then yes, I am," he paused for dramatic effect, "Crazy about you."

She could hear Blaise covering up his laughter with a fit of coughing.

"I don't think so, Cormac." she said, "I already have a date in mind."

"Who'd you say it was?" asked Draco, interrupting her recounting of the night before. Their friends were seated around them eating breakfast, Blaise was next to Theo, telling his version of the dinner party, while Daphne and Pansy were listening to Hermione.

"I said it was you." she said awkwardly, making him choke a little on his pumpkin juice.

"What?!" he said in between coughs.

"I couldn't think of anyone else! I'm sorry!" she said, "But would you please, please go with me? I detest McLaggen with all my being, do me a favor just this once, Draco."

"You know I'm busy." muttered Draco.

"It's just one night." she pleaded. "I promise I'll help you with your homework more."

"Write a draft to my Charms essay and let me study with you tomorrow for Transfiguration you have a deal." he finally said after a moment of pondering.

"Alright." she said. "It's a date."

Both their cheeks had more color to them by the end of breakfast.

* * *

"I would have thought you'd be in practice right now." she said, gazing out the library window.

"I don't have much time to think about Quidditch these days." said Draco as he wrote down a few more sentences of homework.

"Tell me when you're going back to fix the cabinet next time, I'll help." she offered.

"I usually go during my breaks, and you have less than I do." he said. "You should rest instead, you're taking a lot of classes this year."

"You never cease to surprise me." she said, rolling her eyes.

"What?" he asked, looking up from his scroll.

"Stop being such a hypocrite already." she snapped, "You don't sleep, you barely eat, your grades are slipping, and you've been so quiet lately that the others are starting to notice."

"It's not like I have the time —"

"Shove it, Draco." she said, "If you would just let me _help_ you, you would at least be able to sleep more."

"Even if I had the time to sleep I wouldn't be able to." he said, his voice almost a whisper.

"Draco … have you been having dreams?" her words made him flinch as if she had just hexed him. "You should have told me, I could get something from Madam Pomfrey if you want, a bottle of Dreamless Sleep, maybe -"

"You can't always help me, Hermione." he said, suddenly throwing his quill down, "Lately, it's as if you've been saving me more and more. It's not your job to save me. I have to learn to do things on my own."

"You don't have to." she hissed. "Why do you keep trying to push me away?"

"You don't get it." he said, sounding tortured, "You know exactly who you are and what you're doing. Your father isn't in jail and the Dark Lord isn't living in your home. I just …. I have to do this."

He stood to leave, hurriedly cramming his things into his satchel.

"You don't have to do it alone, you know that." she said quietly as he turned his back on her, "I'm here for you."

Her words fell on deaf ears as she watched him walk across the room.

* * *

"Did you hear?"

"Did I hear what, Pansy?" asked Hermione tonelessly as she dug into her scrambled eggs, "You really do need to work on your sentence construction."

"Just listen, will you?" huffed Pansy, hooking Daphne into the conversation. "So I overheard a few of the Gryffindors talking and apparently after their win yesterday at Quidditch, the Weasel and Lavender Brown got together."

"Isn't she that blonde girl? Pretty, a bit on the busty side?" wondered Daphne.

"She's pureblood, isn't she?" Hermione asked, "That's a crying shame. Anyone who sullies themselves with Weasley are just as dirty as they are."

"Couldn't have said it any better myself." said Draco, taking a seat next to her.

She wondered how long it would keep going like this between the two of them; arguing one day about the Dark Lord and their possible demise, and then the next sitting side by side, somehow laughing and talking as if nothing had happened.

"So you've already heard, then?" she asked, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

"Already finished taking the mickey out of him for it." he said proudly.

"It's rather early for that, isn't it? Breakfast is barely halfway finished." asked Daphne.

"There's never a time to early or too late to tear a Weasel to shreds." said Draco, eliciting a round of chuckles from the group.

"By the way, Blaise, who did you decide on taking to Slughorn's party?" inquired Pansy, with a look on her face that resembled that of a bird of prey.

"Sorry Pans, already have a partner." the boy in question said offhandedly, "A 'Puff in the year below us."

Hermione zoned out of the conversation as it gravitated towards gossip that didn't really involve her. She couldn't help but notice, looking around the Great Hall, that Hogwarts did have its very own sort of charm every now and then.

The standard twelve Christmas trees were standing tall around the Hall, glittering splendidly with decorations and tinsel, bunches of mistletoe were hanging from archways, trapping a few people every now and then in an invisible bubble that kept them in place until they shared a kiss. She generally avoided the corridors that held the little shrubs, wary of getting stuck along with someone she detested.

* * *

She and Draco arrived at the entrance hall at around eight o'clock that night, where a few other students were already making their way to Slughorn's office. Draco looked quite dapper in pitch black dress robes lined with silver, complimenting her black silk and emerald lace dress robes, making the two look like the poster children for Slytherin house.

"Look over there." she whispered, pulling on the arm that her own was wrapped around. The two smirked at the sight of Harry Potter, who had appeared in the entrance hall with Looney Lovegood. Th e girl was dressed in odd silver spangled robes that reminded Hermione of one of Mimi's freshly cleaned cooking pans.

"Do you think she's trying to outshine the moon?" Draco said quietly as they passed the couple, making sure that his remark was heard. They saw Potter clench his fist in annoyance just as they walked into Slughorn's office, the sounds of laughter, music and conversation louder as they approached.

The Potions Master's office was almost three times as large as Snape's, and almost as expansive as Dumbledore's. The ceiling and walls had been draped with emerald, crimson, and gold hangings, so that it looked as though they were all inside a vast tent. The room was crowded and stuffy and bathed in the red light cast by an ornate golden lamp dangling from the center of the ceiling in which real fairies were fluttering, each a brilliant speck of light.

Hermione and Draco steered clear of Slughorn as soon as they made their pleasantries, choosing to avoid the professor as much as they could for the night. They met Blaise and his date, a pretty black haired witch who was gazing at her date with a lovesick expression that made Hermione feel sorry for her.

"Look who's coming." smirked Blaise. She turned to face where he was looking, only to find Cormac McLaggen swaggering towards them.

"I don't walk like that, do I?" whispered Draco as they watched the boy approach.

"Not anymore." she said, patting his hand encouragingly, "I'd like to think I had a hand in your reformation from pompous prat to slightly bearable prat."

McLaggen reached them before Draco could reply. "Good morning, Hermione." he said, smirking. She watched his eyes rake over her body greedily, making her want to slap him so hard that his eyeballs fell out from their sockets. "You look _ravishing_."

"Thank you." she said in a clipped voice.

"I wish you'd gone with me." he went on, ignoring the fact that Draco was standing right next to her, "I would've shown you the time of your life."

"That's nice." she said, her fingers digging into Draco's robes in irritation.

"What do you think about ditching your date, eh?" McLaggen said with a wink.

"No, thank you." she said, forcing her lips into a smile. "It wouldn't be polite."

"To hell with etiquette." McLaggen said, stepping uncomfortably close, "Don't you want to be bad for a night?"

Before she could say anything else, Draco already had his wand out, pointing it at McLaggen's throat. She silently thanked whatever gods there were that existed for the fact that they were covered by one of Slughhorn's statues.

"One more word out of your mouth, and you'll wish you never learned to speak." growled Draco threateningly.

McLaggen's eyes narrowed at him, as if only now noticing his presence. "What are you going to do?"

"Do you really want to find out?" Draco said, his eyes blazed menacingly as he thrust his wand into against the other boy's throat.

"Fine." McLaggen snarled, backing away a few steps, sending a wink her way just as he left in a huff.

"You didn't have to do that." she said as Draco hid his wand, "I had it under control."

"He's sick." he spat. "If he ever talks to you again, tell me."

"I said it's fine, I know —"

"Tell me." his voice had become unnervingly serious, mirroring the expression on his face, his stormy eyes looked furious as he gazed down at her.

"Alright." she said in surrender, hoping to appease him, "Alright."

"What a handsome couple." came a drawling voice from behind them.

The pair turned to find their head of house, arms crossed, observing them. He looked just as he normally did, black-clad and dour-faced, as if he had made no effort at all for Slughorn's get together.

"Good evening, Professor." she and Draco chorused.

"Yes, yes, good evening." Snape said, rolling his eyes. "I'd like a word with you, Draco."

He and Hermione exchanged a look before he realeased her from his grasp, allowing her hand to fall limp at her side. She urged him on, smiling.

"It's fine." she said, seeing the hesitant look he was giving her, "I'll look for Blaise."

She left them there, immersed in whispered conversation while she tried to weave through the crowd of people to find her friend.

"Miss Dagworth-Granger!" a booming voice stopped her in her tracks, and her chest filled with dread as she turned to face Slughorn, who was grinning merrily next to a wizened old man dressed in purple robes. "Come here, child."

"Godfrey, this is the girl I was telling you about," smiled the professor, "Miss Dagworth-Granger, this is Sir Godfrey Blackthorn, I've been telling him what an astounding pupil you are, one in a million, I said."

Hermione smiled pleasantly, "You flatter me, Professor." she said. "I try to do my best."

"My dear child, Sir Blackthorn here has taken quite an interest in your progress in Defense of the Dark Arts; apparently, his cousin was your examiner during the OWLs last year? You must tell us _how_ you became so proficient that you're able to produce a Patronus Charm."

"Sheer luck, Professor." she said with a sly grin.

"Now, now, Miss Dagworth-Granger, one must not make light of her talents." Sir Blackthorn said, tutting. "I've half a mind to write your name down for Auror Training right this second."

"Godfrey's in charge of screening applicants for the Auror Department at the Ministry." Slughorn interjected.

"That's incredible." she praised, allowing the man to bask in his pride, "But I'm sorry to say that I have no interest in being an Auror, sir. Professor Slughorn knows all too well that I'm practically inseparable from my Potions work."

"Ho,ho! Right you are, Hermione!" said the man, "I may as well be speaking to the next president of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers!"

"Shame." Blackthorn said mournfully, "The department needs fresh, strong blood in its veins."

"Well, sir," Hermione said, with a grin that rivaled the Cheshire cat's, "I think you'll find that a certain Harry Potter is considering joining your department in the near future."

"Is that so?" Blackthorn said perkily as he looked around, scanning the faces of the crowd to find his prey.

"Oh, yes!" Slughorn agreed, "I believed Minerva mentioned something along the lines of that! Come now, Godfrey, let's go find young Harry!"

After a while, as Blaise and Hermione were chatting, Draco finally reappeared at her side looking a bit frazzled, but otherwise no different as to when she had left him with Snape. She turned to him, brow raised in question, only to receive a shrug of shoulders.

"Wanna dance?" Draco asked, offering his hand. Hermione stared at it blankly, not quite sure what to make of it.

"You're supposed to take it, Mione." he said, smirking.

"Shut up." she grumbled, placing her hand in his and allowing him to lead her to where other people were dancing in the middle of the room. "You don't have to do this, you know. I dragged you into this, you don't have to pretend."

"I'm not," Draco said, taking her waist firmly as she rest her other hand on his shoulder, "we should enjoy these things while we can."

"You've changed your philosophy quite abruptly." she noted as he spun her lightly, "A few days ago you were snarly and sour."

"Can I just say I've had a change of heart and be done with it?" he asked. Something in his eyes as he looked down at her unnerved her, the way the storm in them seemed relentless, yet calming, but still somehow so weak. She held his hand just a little tighter.

"What did Snape say to you?' she asked quietly, breaking the spell.

"It's nothing." he said. "It doesn't matter.."

"Did you tell him about the plan?" she whispered.

"You're the only one who knows about it." he said. "Let's stop talking about this, people will think we're suspicious."

"We're Slytherins," she laughed, "we're always suspicious."

* * *

 **a/n:** hullo! sorry I've been gone for so long. School's quite hectic at the moment and I have tons to do, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	41. Chapter 41 : Maudis-Toi

**Chapter 41 : Maudis-Toi**

"That's the fifth time you've used _reparo_ on that exact same spot." she said, holding up the loose door of the cabinet.

"Borgin said it takes time for the charm to catch on." Draco said in between chants, "It's an old piece, and the damage isn't just on the physical form, either, of course it'll be a while."

"Are you sure you're saying it right?" she pried, trying to sneak a look at his handiwork. He swatted her away, muttering the spell again.

"Just focus on what you're doing." he said.

"I'm holding up a piece of wood, what is there to focus on?" she said, rolling her eyes.

"You can leave if you want to." he said, "No one's forcing you to be here."

"Hmph." she said, holding up the door anyway. The telltale smirk on Draco's face did not go unnoticed. "You know you need me."

"Right, because I can't hold a door myself." he said, chuckling.

"Why are you doing the spell work anyways?" she huffed.

"Because I'm better at Charms than you and you know it." he grinned up at her.

"You were only a decimal point above me." she growled, "It means nothing."

"Are you sure it was fine with your parents that you stayed for Winter break?" he asked.

"It's fine." she brushed off, "This is much more important."

"I think this is alright." Draco said, finally standing to inspect his work. "Does that look right to you?"

"Not that I'm an expert on all things cabinetry, but yes, it looks just like any other cabinet I've every seen."

"And it only took over an hour to do." he sighed. "It's past seven eight, we should head back before the professors notice we're missing dinner."

"They'll probably just think we're off messing around." she said offhandedly.

Draco made a choking sound that drew her attention to his quickly reddening face. "Ugh! I didn't mean it like that, you pig." she said, her cheeks flushing.

"Of course not." he coughed, before walking ahead of her hastily.

* * *

The new term started with a pleasant buzz in the Slytherin common rooms among the sixth years, excluding Hermione, who was listening to her friends' excited chatter.

"I wouldn't have to ask my mum to bring me to Diagon Alley anymore." Blaise said jubilantly, as if he had just been told the best news in his life.

"Honestly, you're just happy to be Apparating to you can meet your girlfriends anytime you want." said Daphne.

"So what if I am? At least I'm not using it to spend half of my Gringott's vault for shopping." he snapped.

"Alright, alright, you two, stop your quarreling." Hermione said lightly.

"You're lucky, Mione, no stupid lessons for you." Daphne grumbled.

"Oh yeah, I forgot you were born a year ahead, weren't you?" Blaise queried, "So when did you get your license?"

"I got it early, my grandfather had to pull some strings so I could take my test a few months before my birthday, but I took it last summer." she said, smiling.

"So if you wanted to, you could just pop right out of here, right?" Blaise said excitedly.

"If you actually tried reading Hogwarts: A History, Zabini, you wouldn't have to ask her that." Theo said, smirking from behind an open book on the chaise lounge.

"Oh, sod off, Theo." snapped the Italian, "Why not, then?"

"You can't Apparate in or out of the castle." she explained, "There are wards against things like that. Portkeys don't work either. Hogwarts' security wards and protection spells are stronger than the oldest magic, the founders ensured that next to nothing could break them."

"So I won't be able to skive off class?" he grumbled.

"No, Blaise, you won't."

* * *

"I fixed the bottom of the cabinet today." Draco informed her as soon as the last of the remaining students left the common room.

"That leaves the wonky leg, the drawer that wont open and the transport charms, right?" she whispered.

"Pretty much." he said, just as quietly, "Borgin reckons that the charms will take the most time, but the leg isn't looking too good either, so that might take us about a month to finish."

"What?" she hissed. "We're a week away from February , that would mean that we'll barely be able to finish it by June."

"I know, but I'm doing the best I can."

"I know." she sighed, "I just wished there was an easier way."

"There might be?" he said, uneasily looking away from her.

"What did you do?" she said, remembering the incident with Katie Bell, "Draco, don't tell me you did something stupid again."

"There might be something I haven't told you." he said, his voice wavering slightly.

"I swear, Draco, you're going to kill me before the Dark Lord has a chance, she sighed tiredly, "What did you do now?"

"I might have sent Dumbledore poison." he said, wincing as she swatted his arm repeatedly.

"Who do you think our Headmaster is?" she hissed, "A bloody poison won't work on the old geezer!"

"It's not like I said the plan was fool proof!" he said, trying to shield himself from her ongoing assault.

"Of course it wasn't! It was a fool that planned it in the first place!" she screeched, "What makes you think that Dumbledore will ever fall for that?"

"Well we'll never know, will we?" he said, sighing in relief as her swatting stopped, "I Imperioed Rosemerta again to give a bottle of the poisoned mead to Slughorn to give to Dumbledore. But the man's still very much alive, so I don't think he's gotten to drinking it yet."

"What is it with you and the _Imperio?"_ she huffed, "Poor Rosemerta might just think she's going crazy. The Headmaster might've already gotten it and thrown it away."

"Yeah, so the cabinet's our last hope then?"

"It's our only hope." she said, gazing into the fireplace, deep in thought.

* * *

The potions classroom was filled with various foul smelling fumes, most of them so putrid that she had to wear a scarf around her mouth and nose to keep the smell away. The smoke was coming from the two cauldrons a few tables down, where Weasley and Potter seemed to be doing the best they could to muck up the assignment.

Hermione would have been smirking had her mouth not been covered by her silver and green scarf. Her own antidote according to Golpalott's Rule was going smoothly, bubbling brightly as she continued stirring. It took her little to no effort to come up with the antidote for Delusion Draught, which would cause the drinker to go into a fit of raving lunacy; she merely had to follow the instructions, but replace the ingredients with their respective opposites.

Apparently, Potter's secret cheat could offer him no help in this department, because the boy in question seemed to be exhausting all his efforts to try and negate the effects of his potion. She leaned over Draco's potion to see how he was doing, before muttering a few tips under her breath to help him.

When Slughorn called the class to a halt, beginning his inspection of potions, he chuckled happily at her own antidote, marking her perfectly, along with a few lines of praise, which made her smirk in Potter's direction.

However, when the professor finally approached his favorite student, he broke out in roaring laughter. Hermione clenched her fists angrily as the man proceeded to give full marks and ten points to Gryffindor just because of a bloody bezoar. Anyone would have been able to grab that and present it! It wasn't even what the assignment called for. Hermione seethed with anger as the bell rang, and packed her bag quickly as she could before stomping out of the room.

Outside the potions classroom, a letter was waiting for her, floating in the air with her name on it in green ink. She took it, ripping it open before grinning. Snape's lessons would mean she could vent her anger out in combat, which would be better than having to resort to tripping Blaise over and over again with nonverbal spells.

"What do you mean we're not doing and training?" she whined.

"Just that, Miss Dagworth-Granger." Snape drawled.

"Why not?" she pressed.

"Sit." he said sternly, with a look in his eye that said he had no time for her. She sat impatiently, glaring at her professor riotously.

"Your pouting will get you nowhere, child." he said, sounding annoyed.

"If we aren't doing combat, then what? My Occlumency's perfect as it is." she said, folding her arms across her chest.

"Be that as it may, though I wish you'd develop an ounce more of humility." Snape said, "Today you are going to be reading that."

He tapped his wand on an old tome that was sitting on top of his desk, just before it slammed open abruptly, she caught the title, _'The Secrets of the Darkest Art'_. Snape had spelled the book open to the final chapter, which was entitled; _'The Darkest of the Darkest Art'_.

"This is something Madam Pince would never give me clearance on." she said, skimming the lines with her fingertips.

"The Headmaster wants you to be well informed on this matter. He is allowing you to borrow this book, taken from his personal library, but of course you may only read it in my presence and during our lessons."

"The Headmaster wants me to learn about Horcruxes?" the word sounded foreign on her tongue, "An object that contains a fragment of a Dark wizard's divided soul …"

She trailed off as the words registered in her mind, looking up at Snape in concern. The professor remained stoic, as if awaiting her barrage of questions.

"Are you saying that the Dark Lord has created a horcrux?" she asked in disbelief.

"The Headmaster believes it is possible that he has created more than one." he said, with a nod of his head.

Hermione's eyes ran through the words on the book frantically, muttering as she went on. "…Protection against death … but if that's so then he would never … no … was that how? … multiple horcruxes would have made him … but to create such a thing…"

"Miss Dagworth-Granger, you're beginning to prattle." Snape said seriously.

"But sir, if — if the Dark Lord has done this then — then that means he can't be killed." she said, looking up at the expressionless face of her professor.

"He can." Snape said firmly, "It will just prove to be extremely difficult."

"Splitting one's soul …" she said breathlessly, "He truly is a monster."

"Yes, we've known that for about two decades." he said.

"WILL YOU TAKE THIS BLOODY SERIOUSLY!? she yelled. The man did not flinch. "HOW DO WE KILL HIM NOW?"

"Miss Dagworth-Granger, you're screaming in French." Snape said.

"You're telling me that the Dark Lord is _untouchable_ almost fucking _immortal_ and all you have to say is I'M SCREAMING IN FRENCH?!"

Snape flicked his wand swiftly, effectively silencing her. She glared at the man in fury, eyes blazing.

"The Headmaster has a plan, and you are part of it, so you _will_ calm down and you _will_ read the book and you _will_ be quiet once I lift the spell."

She nodded, still glaring, and she felt the telltale lifting of magic off of her. "How can you possibly destroy one of these things? If it's as Dark as it is, we'd have to use something just as Dark, or as equally strong in Light magic."

"That isn't for you to worry about, though it is mentioned in the book, if you so choose to read it." Snape said. "The Headmaster has no plans for you to actually find or destroy any of the horcruxes. He merely wishes you to become aware of their existence."

"For what?" she snorted, "Light reading?"

"I thought I told you to be quiet?" the professor said.

* * *

In the first week of February, the snow began to melt away, the grass reappeared and the sun shone a little bit warmer, but still there was a cold dreary wetness that stuck, as if winter had not yet lost its spirit. As her friends began their apparition lessons, she became more engrossed in reading about horcruxes, spelling ancient texts to look like Charms books and hiding underneath her blankets with her wand lit up to keep Daphne from prying.

It became more and more obvious to her just how the Dark Lord came to be who he was, the powerful, merciless shell of a man that she had faced only once, was just that; a shell. A body holding the tiniest sliver of a soul, the smallest one could have to even call it a soul. The man had split himself apart more times than she cared to imagine, just to ensure that he would never truly die.

She and Draco had only been to the Room of Hidden Things together twice in two weeks, their schedules did not align favorably to them, so he would sometimes enlist Crabbe or Goyle to keep watch, not at all trusting them with anything to do about the cabinet. Theo had been kept in the dark about it all, which Draco did merely because of her wishes; she had not wanted to have Theo involved without the need for him to be, although sometimes, it seemed that he knew they were doing something.

Whenever she and Draco would wander off with the excuse of studying, he would raise a brow at her in question, then go back to one of his books, never saying a word, and when he stepped into one of their private conversations, he would apologize, excuse himself quickly, and step out of the room. It unnerved her how her friend was acting, but other than that, he was as normal as he could be.

February moved towards March, with the weather just as depressing, and the results of their work on the cabinet reflecting it. They had only finished the leg of the cabinet so far, though Draco kept telling her that the drawer would be an easier fix. She found herself wishing to the stars at night, that somehow their plan would work.

Around lunchtime on the first of March, Hermione caught a snippet of conversation from a few Ravenclaws as she and Daphne were fixing themselves in front of the mirror in the ladies bathroom. The girls were talking in obnoxiously loud voices, which was not exactly the tone you used when you wanted to keep a secret.

"Did you hear? Ronald Weasley accidentally ate a box of love potion-ed chocolates and had to be treated by Slughorn! They say he had to give him a dose of frog's blood as an antidote." one girl said.

Hermione suppressed a laugh, these girls may have been in Ravenclaw, but apparently Rowena's standards for letting people into her house over the years had slipped, frogs blood would have done nothing to relieve the effects of a love potion.

"That's not all…" another girl said, "I heard that after Slughorn gave him the antidote, the Professor accidentally gave him poison, too!"

"You're barking!" said a skeptical looking girl, "How could our Potions professor 'accidentally' give someone a poison?"

"They say that he didn't know it was poison!" the second girl whispered, "It was hidden in the form of a bottle of oak matured mead!"

"Now that's just plain loony." someone said, "Now come on, we're late for Divination."

Hermione and Daphne exchanged a look as the group left.

She found Draco lounging on his regular chaise lounge after lunch, they had a break together then. He was levitating a cushion over his head to entertain himself, Crabbe and Goyle were uncharacteristically absent,

"Not busy?" she asked, sitting by his feet.

"I just got back, missed lunch, but I'm seeing progress." he said, as the cushion floated a bit higher.

"I figured." she said, holding out the small basket of food in her hand, "I asked the house elves to make you something when I couldn't find you in the Great Hall."

He dropped the pillow immediately, throwing it off his head where it had landed, so he could rummage through the sandwiches.

"You're an angel." he said, grinning at her.

"It's the least I can do," she smiled, "you brightened up my day after all, though you may not be aware of it. Actually, it's a horrible thing to be happy about, but I'm not a saint, so I'll be happy anyways."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, looking confused.

"You haven't heard?" she said, smirking, "Your little poisoned wine scheme failed miserably, but in a way that I wont hate you for it. Weasley was the one who got it, Slughorn kept it and gave it to him earlier today."

"You're joking?" Draco said, sitting up straighter, "What happened to him?"

"He's still alive, don't get your hopes up." she said, rolling her eyes, "But I'm sure he suffered a bit before Sluggy could do anything to help him."

"I'll just pretend he suffered a lot more." Draco said, closing his eyes and letting a smile spread on his face. It was a rather nice smile. It made him look miles better than he did when he was scowling and snapping, somehow, it softened his features, making little crows feet appear in the corner of his eyes as he did so.

She found herself reaching out to him, hand lifted as if she was going to touch his face. She stopped herself just in time, retracting her arm just as he opened his eyes. A blush was spreading to her cheeks furiously, which she tried to hide with a curtain of curls. What the in Merlin's name was she thinking?

* * *

Hermione faced Snape's wrath that night, in the form of a stern sounding reprimand. She stood in front of his desk, bowing her head as he lectured her.

"The moment Draco told you he had another plan you should have informed us." the professor glowered. "If you can't do your role in this, why are you even here, child? It's as simple as whispering a few words to that blasted necklace of yours and we would've been spared the trouble of a trip to the Hospital Wing.

"You can't let this happen again. One small mistake like this could lead to the loss of dozens of lives just because you forget or think that one detail doesn't matter. Do you understand, Miss Dagworth-Granger?"

"Yes, sir," she said remorsefully, "I would like to extend my apologies to the Headmaster as well, I never meant for it to end like this."

"Of course you didn't." Snape snapped, "Anything to report about the progress of the the cabinet?"

"Just the drawer and the enchantments left." she said, "It will probably be finished mid to late June."

"Alright." the professor nodded, "Make sure that this doesn't happen again, Miss Dagworth-Granger."

"Yes, sir." she said with a bow.

* * *

In the first weeks of May, one Tuesday afternoon, Hermione found herself walking up the stairs to the seventh corridor to meet Draco when a dazed Harry Potter passed by her, entirely occupied by the piece of parchment he was holding in his hands; it must have been the her uncle's Map. She watched him as he walked straight into a suit of armor, seemingly transfixed for a moment, before the loud crash of metal brought him out of his reverie.

He hurried back down the stairs, still glued to the Map in his hands. Hermione followed, something in her gut telling her that she should She kept her distance, trailing a few meters behind him. She hid behind another suit of armor as Potter pressed his ear against the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He must have heard something, because Potter pushed the door open.

Hermione strained to hear anything for a few minutes, but no sound could be heard from where she was standing. Growing impatient, she considered the thought that maybe Potter was just being an idiot, just as she heard screaming from the inside. She rushed over, bursting through the door the exact moment Potter lifted his arm and said,

 _"SECTUMSEMPRA!"_

Hermione screamed, watching as Draco fell, his body limp as blood spurted from his face and chest. Potter whipped around to look at her before turning back to face Draco, looking at the sight he had caused in horror.

"YOU'RE CRAZY!" Hermione screamed, rushing over to Draco's body. She cast a silent patronus, hoping that it would get there in time. The blood was rushing out of his body quickly, mingling with the water that was pooling on the floor. Moaning Myrtle was screaming something incoherent.

Hermione took out her wand quickly, muttering under her breath all the healing spells she knew rapidly, _"Vulnera Sanentur."_ she said forcefully, trying to use Snape's countercurse.

Potter tried to help her, taking a step forward, his face pale. "If you come closer, I'll kill you!" she screamed. The door banged open in that moment and Potter looked up in terror. She sighed in relief as Snape burst into the rom looking livid.

"Sectumsempra." Hermione said under her breath. "I tried healing him but it doesn't work as well when you do it."

Snape nodded, he knelt over Draco, drew his wand, and traced it over the deep wounds Potter's curse had made, muttering the incantation in a way that sounded almost like song. The flow of blood seemed to ease; Snape wiped the residue from Draco's face and repeated his spell. Now the wounds seemed to be knitting. Hermione sent a few _'Tergeo'_ charms to clean up the blood as the professor lifted Draco to standing position.

"You need the hospital wing. There may be a certain amount of scarring, but if you take dittany immediately we might avoid even that. . . . Come. . . ."

He supported Draco across the bathroom, turning at the door to say in a voice of cold fury, "And you, Potter . . . You wait here for me… Come, Hermione …"

Hermione paused for just a moment, her face carrying more anger than Snape's had. She slapped Potter hard across the face, reveling in the hiss of pain she had elicited from him.

"You better fucking watch yourself, Potter." she said, "If there is so much as an inch of a scar on him, you'll have hell to pay.


	42. Chanel 42: Nuit Étoilée

**Chanel 42: Nuit Étoilée**

She helped Snape with Draco, sharing the burden of his weight in her shoulders, she would glance back at him and then in front of her, making sure he wasn't in any pain. Draco caught her gaze a few times, trying to smile in reassurance, but it only came out as a grimace. His face was pale from the blood loss, making the dark circles under his eyes five times worse.

They helped him to the hospital wing in tense silence, and Madam Pomfrey began her administrations with a questioning look to Snape. Draco was confined to a bed, where the healer began making him drink a plethora of blood replenishing potions.

"What happened?" Snape said, pulling her aside where they would not be heard.

"I — I'm not sure." she said, "Potter was following him with his map, I think, and I saw him go inside Myrtle's bathroom, the next thing I knew, he was throwing curses at him. I couldn't help him … before I knew it Potter had thrown the curse … how did he even know that spell? I thought it was one of yours?"

"I have an inkling…" Snape said vaguely, "Forgive me, I must see to Potter. I trust you will ensure Draco's recovery?"

"Yes, sir." she said with a nod before watching the man leave with a flurry of robes and a whispered instruction to Madam Pomfrey.

"Hermione approached the hospital bed as the medic was administering healing balms on Draco's skin, she could see him biting his lip to stop himself from making any noise. Her heart clenched at the sight of him in pain. She brought a chair towards the side of the bed, lending her hand for him in comfort. He grasped it tightly, his grip tightened every time Madam Pomfrey moved to a new wound.

When the witch had given him the last of the healing potions, she left the two of them together without a word and closed the curtains behind her. Draco was already fast asleep, having surrendered to the Sleeping Draught, but his hand was still in hers, holding on loosely.

"You scared me half to death, Draco." she whispered, watching him closely, "I don't know what I would have done if Snape hadn't been there. I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

She expected no reply, and no reply came.

* * *

Hermione stared out the window of the infirmary, watching the late afternoon sun drift into the room. Some students were out on the grounds, enjoying the last moments of their Sunday.

"Have you been here all day?" came the soft voice beside her. She turned her head abruptly, facing the boy lying on the bed. Draco seemed to be trying to sit up, wincing as he did so. She held him back with a firm hand on his shoulder, urging him to stay still. He did so, allowing her to bring the blanket back to his shoulders.

"Pomfrey says you shouldn't move too much." she said, looking at him worriedly as she straightened the sheets. "Do you want anything? Water? Pain relievers?"

"I'm fine." he said, catching one of her hands by the wrist to still her frantic movements. "You haven't answered my question."

"What question?" she asked.

"Have you been here all day?" he repeated.

"Oh," she said, "yes."

"Did you eat at all?"

"Not since breakfast." she admitted, refusing to meet his gaze.

"You should go. I won't be responsible for you dying of hunger."

"Not to worry," a voice said, interrupting them. The two turned to find that the curtains separating them from the rest of the infirmary had been drawn, and Theo was standing there with a basket in his hands. Draco let her arm go, leaving it to fall limp at her side.

"Your savior has arrived." he joked, "I asked Snape where you two were, since you hadn't shown for breakfast and I saw Potter running through the school bloody and beaten."

"I was going to send a message…" Hermione mumbled.

"No you weren't." Theo chuckled, "Come on then, I have chicken pot pie and a pumpkin juice."

"Thank you." Hermione said, smiling.

"What happened, then?" he asked, looking pointedly at Draco. He and Hermione shared a look before facing their friend.

"I, er, got into a fight with Potter." Draco said awkwardly.

"Right, and he threw you into the infirmary how?" Theo challenged.

"He cast a curse he didn't know the use for." Hermione explained, "He got mad, I think, over something Draco said. It was a Dark Spell… still don't know how he learned it, but there was a lot of blood."

"Shite, mate," Theo said, brows furrowed in concern, "you alright?"

"I'm fine." he said, waving his friend off, "Pomfrey's done a bang up job on me."

"Need me to teach Potter some manners? Blaise and the boys will be ready, just say the word." he smirked.

Draco glanced at her again, and seeing her grin, nodded to his friend, mirroring the smirk in front of him. "Give him hell for me, Nott."

"Right," Theo said, backing away with a spring in his step, "rest up now, Drake, I'll be sure to try and get Weasley, too."

"They won't be the only ones looking for revenge, you know." Hermione said, taking her seat next to him.

"I know." Draco grinned,

"What happened in there, Draco? Why did Potter start cursing you?" she asked, suddenly serious.

"Leave it, Hermione." Draco said, "I was just going to the loo."

"In the girls' lavatory? You can lie better than that." she said, crossing her arms sternly, "I want the truth, Draco."

"Fine," he sighed, running a hand through his hair, "I—I was talking to Myrtle."

"Myrtle?" she echoed, "You mean Moaning Myrtle? What in the world would you be talking to her about?"

"I've been speaking to her a bit these past two weeks. She — she listens, she doesn't know what I'm talking about, but she listens."

Hermione stared at him as if he had suddenly grown a second head. "You've been talking to a ghost about your worries?"

"I'm honestly not quite sure what happened, either." he frowned, "I was working on the cabinet one day, and it wasn't going well — I just sort of found myself in the bathroom."

"So you prefer talking to Myrtle about these things rather than me then?" she said, her voice venomous, "You'd rather talk to a fifty year old ghost?"

"Listen, Mione, it's nothing to do about you." he said.

"So why don't you talk to me, Draco?" she asked.

The blonde boy buried his face in his hands, taking deep breaths of airs before answering through his hands, "I'm ashamed, alright."

"What —"

"I'm ashamed," he repeated, "I can't do this and you're trying to help but I'm so bloody terrified it isn't going to work, Hermione. I can't show it around you because I don't want you knowing that I'm afraid — I'm afraid he'll kill me, and my mother, and my father. I'm doing the best I can, but it isn't enough…"

"Shh." Hermione said soothingly, prying his hands gently away from himself, "There's no shame in being scared, Draco. I am too. It's only human to be afraid. It will work, I promise you … I know it will."

"You can't possibly know that…" he said, his eyes filling with tears. Hermione took one hand in hers, holding it firmly.

"It will." she said again, leaving not a trace of doubt in her voice. "I know it will.

* * *

Draco was fast asleep, once again under the influence of sleeping potions, and she was watching over him as the moonlight lit his elfin features, softening them, and making his skin look like it was shining. The night was quiet, and the air from one of the open windows was cold, making a candle flame flicker faintly in the breeze. She stood after a moment, pulling the blanket she had over her shoulders tighter, walking to the window ready to close it. What she found, however, took her breath away.

There, twinkling brightly up in the depths of the night sky, were millions of stars, accompanied by a bright, full moon. She kept a hand on the window, looking up at the sight in awe. She could almost see Sirius winking up at her from his place in Canis Major, as if he knew she was looking at him. In a split decision, she was climbing over the window ledge and making herself comfortable as the wind whipped her hair around.

"Mind if I join you? came a voice from behind her. She turned to find Theo looking up at her with a small smile. She gave a small nod, gesturing for him to sit next to her.

"Are you cold?" he asked, eyeing the think blanket wrapped around her. Before she could reply, he had already taken off his jumper and tossed it to her. He watched as she pulled it on, smiling gratefully at him in thanks.

They stayed there for quite a while before he broke the silence.

"I never thought we'd find ourselves here." he said. Something in his voice made her glance at him. She found him looking at his left forearm, his sleeve was rolled up to his elbow, displaying the angry looking Dark Mark on his skin.

"Let alone you." he added. "I always thought it would be me, Draco, Vince, and Greg. When I met you back in first year, it never crossed my mind that you would ever want to join.

"But then in our last year… you changed. It wasn't obvious at first, but the duel with Potter sparked something in you. I don't know what it was, but something made you _want_ to join, somehow, you found something that pushed you in this direction. I hate it, whatever it is. I don't want you here, in this position, fighting with the rest of us. You should be with Daphne and Pansy, riding out the war."

Hermione remained quiet for a few moments before answering him. "Why did _you_ join?"

"Fear, mostly." he said immediately. "My father was a terrifying man when we were alone. To be honest, I thought of running away. I could have cared less about this war back then, I never _wanted_ to join. But then you decided out of the blue that you were. I didn't have a choice. I couldn't let you walk into this world without being there by your side."

Hermione smiled, "I joined because of you, you know. You and Draco.

"I found out very early that you were going to be inducted. I decided that I couldn't leave the two of you either. Morgana knows where you would both be if I hadn't been here to save you."

"I guessed as much…" he said, "You're too kind for your own good, Hermione."

For a few heavy minutes of silence, the only sound between them was the soft sigh of the cold breeze.

"She walks in beauty, like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that's …"

"… best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes." she completed, still gazing up at the sky. "You know, it's funny, I received a Valentine in second year with that poem written on it."

"I know." said Theo. "I sent it."

"You?" Hermione asked, looking at him in confusion.

"Yeah, took all the courage I could muster to even send it back then." he grinned, reminiscing. "I was stupidly in love with you then up until around the beginning of fifth year."

"You were …" the lines in her forehead were deepening further as he continued talking.

"You never figured it out?" Theo said, chuckling, "You can be so dense at times. Honestly, why did you think I asked you to the Yule Ball?"

"I thought you were being… nice?" she said hesitantly. "Hold on, when you said that you joined because of me?"

"I didn't love you anymore then, not in that way." he clarified, "I just couldn't let you go into this alone."

"You're an idiot." she muttered under her breath.

"For you, I gladly would have been." he laughed.

"What's with the sudden confession, Theo?" she asked, her brow raised in suspicion.

"He loves you too." Theo said, smiling kindly, "He just doesn't know how to show it."

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked defensively.

"Drop the act, Mione, I know you're in love with Draco." he said.

It was as if all the air had been sucked out of her lungs. She burst into a fit of choked coughing, her eyes widened in shock at her friend's words.

"What … you're raving…' she sputtered, "I'm _not…_ "

"Oh, you aren't fooling anyone," he said, smirking, "I don't know what the two of you do when you're off alone together, maybe it's something to do with the Dark Lord, maybe not, but that's beside the point. I'm not imagining what I see when the two of you are together. It's in his eyes, Mione, and it's in yours, too."

She frowned at him, "You've got it all wrong, Theo, Draco and I… we could never…"

"Why not?" Theo asked, raising a brow in challenge, "You two are perfect for each other, it's undeniable."

She shook her head furiously, the flush in her cheeks refusing to subside.

"Why won't you admit it?" he asked inquisitively, peering at her with curious green eyes.

Hermione shut her lips tight, looking at the moon adamantly. Theo waited for her to speak. It was a quite a while later that she gave her response.

"I'm afraid." she said, her voice barely a whisper.

"Bollocks," he said, "everyone's afraid these days, that's a shite reason. No matter how you see it, we all have expiration dates, maybe some of us have ours scheduled sooner than we think. It's high time we ignore everything else but the things that are most important to us. You never know when we'll end up losing them… or when they'll end up losing us."

Hermione stared straight at the sky, where the Dog Star was shining brightly in its celestial place, listening to the thunderous beat of her racing heart, and thinking about the sleeping boy in the room behind their backs, clueless about the conversation going on about him outside.

 **n/a:** sorry for the short chapter!


	43. Chapter 43 : La Étreinte

**Chapter 43: La Étreinte**

Hermione sought out Harry Potter the moment Draco was released from the Hospital Wing. It was a few days after Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup, so many of the Slytherins were still bitter about their win. It only took a few minutes to find him. He was in the Seventh floor again, prying about the Room of Requirement. She crept up on him as he inspected the wall where the door to the room was supposed to be.

"You never learn, do you, Potter?" she said, leaning on the wall opposite. He turned around suddenly at the sound of her voice.

"What are you doing here, Granger?" he growled, "Weren't you satisfied with the beating your little cronies gave me? Or have you come to meet with your darling Malfoy? How long will it be until you two become Lord and Lady Death Eater?"

"Sadly he can't be here today because of you." she said darkly.

Potter seemed to wilt at the reminder of what he had done.

"Did you know you almost killed him, Potter?" she said venomously, "Did you know if I hadn't been there, if Snape hadn't been there, he would have bled to death in a minute? Did you know that because of you he would have _died_? Is it not enough for you to have Sirius' blood on your hands?"

"Don't talk about Sirius." Potter snapped.

"Why not Potter? It was your fault anyways, wasn't it?" she taunted evilly, even though her heart was breaking at the use of her Uncle's name like this. "I don't know how you even consider yourself a hero."

He whipped out his wand, pointing it at her threateningly. She looked him straight in the eye, her fury plain on her face.

"Go on then, Potter. Curse me." she said, "I dare you."

"I hadn't meant to curse him." he whispered.

"But you did, didn't you?" she said, sneering at him.

"He's a Death Eater." he said, "He deserves it."

"Have you seen the Mark on him, Potter?" she hissed, "Have you seen the mark of the Dark Lord with your own two eyes?"

"I don't need proof to know that he's no good."

"The world isn't divided into good people and Death Eaters, Potter." she glowered, making the boy waver. She saw him raise his wand higher, before he could do anything, she flicked her hand out at him, focusing her energy directly on her magic, channeling it without the use of her wand, as Snape had taught her. Potter suddenly found himself sprawled on the floor, unable to get up.

Hermione approached him, her heeled school shoes tapping on stone ominously. She glared at him as he struggled to break free of her Sticking Charm.

"I know Theo made sure to hide any bruises and cuts on you." she said, "But I don't care about being caught as much as Theo does."

With another flick of her wrist, her favorite spell did its work; small cuts appeared on the Chosen One's face, tiny trickles of blood spilling here and there. Her anger had not dissipated with the tiny spell, but seeing him struggle was enough too satisfy her.

"Hurt any of my friends again, Potter, and you'll be sorry."

* * *

"Is it … done?" she asked, her voice uneasy as the two of the looked at the fixed cabinet. She had just finished the last of the incantations, and nothing remarkable had happened to indicate the fact that it was fixed.

"We have one way to find out." Draco said, taking an apple out of his robes, "If it comes back eaten, it's been to Borgin and Burkes and sent safely back in one piece."

He placed the apple on the cabinet floor, closing the doors cautiously. He looked at her doubtfully, the fear and anticipation evident in both of their faces. She nodded encouragingly with a brittle smile on her face.

He raised his wand, pointing it directly at the cabinet, saying in a clear voice, _"Harmonia Nectere Passus"_

There was a sound from the inside, a dull thud of something falling, and then nothing. Draco could not move his feet, she saw his hands tremble slightly in anxiousness. Hermione stepped forward, a blank expression on her face as she pried the doors open, to find the once unblemished apple marred with the appearance of teeth marks and one big bite taken out of it.

One look at Draco made her break out into a huge smile, and she started laughing as he whooped for joy, and grabbed her by the waist, twirling her into the air in celebration.

"We did it!" she said, over and over again as he laughed in glee.

At that moment, a ringing was heard throughout the room. The two whipped their heads towards the door, where an intruder had tripped the alarm. Draco let go of her instantly, and through a pile of junk, they could see Professor Trelawney looking around the room with narrowed eyes. Hermione muttered a spell under her breath, causing the room to be shadowed in darkness. Draco sent another spell flying, hitting Trelawney square in the chest, and sending her flying out of the room with a crash of glass.

"Let's go." she said, tugging on his robes, as they broke into a run for the emergency door. They ran alongside each other, quickly exiting to a corridor on the sixth floor, where they did not halt, their feet did not stop running until they back in the passage way leading to the Slytherin common room, panting for breath.

Hermione threw her arms over him, enveloping him in a tight hug. "I told you we could do it." she whispered.

He pried her off of him gently, suddenly she realized how close they were to each other, she could almost count the individual pale eyelashes that shielded the stormy grey eyes that were gazing down on her intensely. Before she knew what was happening, he was leaning his head downwards, and she was tilting her own towards his.

The kiss was everything she wanted it to be, and more. She brought her hands around his neck, pulling him closer. She was vaguely aware of his hands wrapped around her waist, bringing her flush against him in the dark corridor.

He broke away first, a small smile gracing his lips. "I have a letter to write." he whispered. His face was close enough for his breath to tickle her ears, to her embarrassment, she shivered, still in his embrace, making him chuckle.

She pressed a soft kiss to his lips, acutely aware of the fact that her face was a bright shade of red. "I'll get the parchment."

* * *

"Will Hugo be able to get there in time?" she asked Draco, watching him closely as his hand moved furiously along the parchment.

"He's an eagle owl, he'll get there within the hour and probably be back an hour after." Draco said. Hermione nodded in understanding, watching him as he worked. He had not said a word about their kiss, and she didn't expect him to, at least, not yet. She fingered the pendant around her neck in agitation, Dumbledore had yet to reply to the message she had sent earlier while looking for a sheet of clean parchment.

Draco stood abruptly, pushing back his seat as he rolled the piece of parchment up. "Let's go." he said, walking quickly.

She followed him through the castle and to the Owlery, where his owl obediently lent him its foot, allowing him to tie it around him securely. Hugo was off with a few words from Draco, and they were once again alone.

"Now, we wait." she said brightly, turning to leave. Draco, however, had other plans. He grabbed her by the wrist just as she turned around, pulling her close to her.

"Was it just because we were celebrating?" he asked vaguely, his eyes were searching hers, as if he was probing them for answers. She tilted her head towards his, smirking as she did so.

"What if it was?" she teased.

Draco smirked back at her, pulling her closer, "I honestly couldn't care less." he said, making her laugh.

She was cut short by his lips on hers, and she felt as if her heart was going to burst. In that moment, she knew she would have done anything for the boy in front of her; as long as they could stay like this for a little while longer, holding each other close, their thoughts as far away from the Dark Lord as possible.

* * *

They were sitting on the steps leading to the Owlery, waiting for Hugo to return. His arm was wrapped around her waist tightly, as if he wasn't ready to let go of her just yet.

"How long?" she asked, breaking the silence. He seemed to know exactly what she was asking.

"A long time." he admitted, "Probably ever since."

She smiled, a warm feeling engulfing her at his words.

"So…" he trailed on awkwardly, "do we, er, tell our parents about this?"

"My mother would probably order you to get down on your knee the moment I tell her." Hermione said, laughing. The faint blush on Draco's cheeks caused her to break into a fit of giggles.

"I think it's best if we tell them, though." she said, regaining her composure "It would be bad if they found out any other way. Your mother will probably be stricter with the two of us while I'm at the Manor, though."

"You're staying over again?" he asked in surprise.

"Narcissa hasn't told you?" she asked, "I can't stay in France. If the Dark Lord calls for me and I'm in the middle of dinner with my grandfather and parents, I couldn't really explain myself all that well."

She turned to look at him and saw that he was smirking at her mischievously. Hermione swatted his arm sternly, "Did you hear a word of what I said, other than the fact that I'm staying over for the summer?"

"Can't I be happy my girlfriend will be with me everyday?" he asked innocently. The word girlfriend filled her with a giddy sort of happiness that made her want to giggle again.

"You're courting me then?" she asked, looking at him curiously.

"I'd be a fool not to." he snorted.

"How romantic." she said, pretending to swoon.

"Oh!" suddenly, she was on her feet, squinting at a tiny black figure approaching the tower, "is that Hugo?"

Draco stood next to her as they awaited the owl's arrival. Hugo swooped down into one of the windows of the tower, perching on a low ledge, looking as if her was tired. She ran a finger through his feathers soothingly as Draco untied the scroll from its leg.

Hermione moved to read it with him, her eyes scanning through the hastily penned script. It was only one word, but it filled her with a heavy sense of dread.

 _Tonight._


	44. Chapter 44 : The Battle at the Tower

**Chapter 44: The Battle at the Tower**

She and Draco ran through the castle urgently as night fell over Hogwarts. They stopped in front of the portrait of the snake charmer, their faces grave.

"I can't be with you when they come." she said, "You have to do it by yourself."

"I'll send for you when they're here." he said, nodding, "Bring Theo with you."

She hugged him tightly, trying not to tear up. "Be safe, Draco." she whispered.

As soon as they went their separate ways, Hermione ran up to her dorm room, which was uncharacteristically empty. She pulled her locket out from under her collar, holding it tightly.

 _"Invasion tonight."_ she whispered.

As soon as the message disappeared from the locket, she sent a hastily written letter to Professor Snape, enchanting it with the same Charm as Dumbledore used. The letter flew out of the room in a flurry of paper winds, and she watched it disappear out the door.

Hermione changed out of her school robes, donning a black cloak, and twisting her hair into a knot. She then moved to find Theo, who wasn't in the common room, as she had hoped. She ran up the stairs to the boy's dormitory, scanning the halls for the sixth year rooms. The door was ajar, light streaming into the hall.

Theo and Vince were the only ones in the room, both of them looking like they were just returning from dinner.

"Vince, I heard the house elves just made a fresh batch of chocolate eclairs." she said brusqely, obviously meaning for him to leave. The large boy left with quick strides out the door, seeming to be salivating at the thought of eclairs.

"You look winded." Theo said with a smirk.

She ignored him, going through his drawers frantically, looking through his clothes.

"I don't think anything of mine will fit you, Mione." he said, looking over her shoulder. She glared at him nastily.

"Where's your cloak?" she asked, gesturing to her own garb.

"Is there a reason why you're dressed exactly like your Aunt Bellatrix, you look quite terrifying, you know." he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'm not kidding, Theo." she said with a huff. When he didn't move, she sighed. "They're coming tonight. Draco found a way to get them into Hogwarts. We have to be ready. As soon as Draco sends the message, we have to leave."

"Why are they coming here?" he asked, suddenly stone-faced.

"Get your cloak, Theodore." she said, "Dumbledore is dying tonight."

* * *

The two of them waited in silence in the empty common room, covered in Disillusionment Charms so that they could move through the castle unnoticed. As the clock chimed 10 o'clock, a letter came zooming into the room through the open window. Hermione jumped up, grabbing it out of the air.

"Let's go." she said, walking out the door with her hood pulled up.

They ran through the castle towards the seventh floor, but before they could reach the seventh landing, footsteps echoed from the floor above them. Theo stopped her in her tracks, motioning her to be silent. From the foot of the stairs, they saw several black clad figures appear, most of them, save three, were wearing Death Eater masks over their faces. Hermione and Theo faced the group with small bows of respect.

Bellatrix cackled gleefully next to Draco, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but there. The group advanced as Bella did.

"Hello, my darling niece, hello, Theodore." she said, grinning manically.

"Good evening, Aunt Bella." Hermione said with a smile. "Draco sent for us."

"Hermione, dearest, Bella cooed as she set a long-nailed hand on Hermione' shoulder, "Would you do the honors of announcing our presence?"

Hermione glanced at her aunt with a cold smile on her lips, "Certainly, Auntie." she said.

She approached a large window, which provided direct view of the Astronomy Tower; the highest point of the castle. She raised her wand high, and in a clear voice, that rang throughout the castle, shouted;

 _"Morsmordre!"_

She heard Bellatrix clapping her hands excitedly behind her as the light of the Dark Mark cast the castle in an eerie green glow.

"Come now, young ones." Bella said, brightly, "Draco, lead the way."

Just as Draco turned in the direction of the Astronomy Tower, several footsteps sounded from the stairs below them. Hermione turned to Draco, who was already taking out a bottle of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, smashing it onto the floor.

"Follow me." he said.

He reached the stairway to the tower just as the Aurors came running through the corridor.

"Go!" Bellatrix shouted to him, "We'll handle them."

He disappeared up the stairs as the first curses were fired. Hermione kept her shield up as the Aurors fought on.

 _"Impedimenta!"_ she yelled at a pink haired witch, who evaded her curse easily. She saw Fenrir Greyback slam his body into a red-haired man, who she suspected to be a Weasley, and one Death Eater went down; succumbing to a stray curse. Several of Potter's friends arrived; Weasley and Longbottom

Hermione shot a silent body bind curse at one opponent, succeeding in taking him down; she saw the tell tale cut on his face that meant her spell had taken hold correctly. Out of th ecorner of her eye, she saw Bellatrix grin at Longbottom evilly, and before she could throw a curse, Hermione sent one of her own.

The boy went flying backwards, too far for a spell to reach him. Her Flippendo Charm combined with a Body Bind ensured that he would come nowhere near Bellatrix. She saw another Auror fall at Theo's curse, and another one, and another. The fight went on, and Bella grew bored with her torture games.

"Come now, Fenrir, Amycus, Alecto, Hermione, Theodore." Bella said, stepping over a body. "The Headmaster is waiting."

They left Rowle, Yaxley, and Dolohov to deal with the remaining people fighting. Their footsteps thundered on the stone steps leading up to the Astronomy Tower. Hermione and Theo trailed behind the group, not wanting to be anywhere near Bellatrix or Fenrir Greyback. They burst through the door onto the ramparts, where they found Draco, his wand pointed directly at a disarmed Dumbledore. Hermione stared in horror at the sight; what had happened to her messages? Had Dumbledore failed to check the coin?

Amycus, with his lopsided leer gave a wheezy giggle. "Dumbledore cornered!" he said, and he turned to his sister who was grinning eagerly. "Dumbledore wandless, Dumbledore alone! Well done, Draco, well done!"

"Good evening, Amycus," said Dumbledore calmly, as though welcoming the man to a tea party. "And you've brought Alecto too. . . . Charming . . ."

Alecto gave an angry little titter, "Think your little jokes will help you on your deathbed, then?"

"Jokes? No, no, these are manners," replied Dumbledore.

"Do it." barked Fenrir. When he talked, one could easily see his pointed, bloodstained teeth.

"Is that you, Fenrir?" asked Dumbledore.

"That's right," rasped the other. "Pleased to see me, Dumbledore?"

"No, I cannot say that I am. Am I to take it that you are attacking even without the full moon now? This is most unusual. . . . You have developed a taste for human flesh that cannot be satisfied once a month?"

"That's right." said Greyback, "Shocks you that, does it, Dumbledore? Frightens you?"

"Well, I cannot pretend it does not disgust me a little," said Dumbledore. "And, yes, I am a little shocked that Draco here invited you, of all people, into the school where his friends live. . . ."

"I didn't," breathed Draco, refusing to look at Greyback, "I didn't know he was going to come—"

"Didn't want to miss a trip to Hogwarts." rasped Fenrir, "Not when there are throats to be ripped out… Delicious, delicious… I could do you for afters, Dumbledore…"

"No," said Bellatrix, "We've got orders. Draco's got to do it. Now, Draco, and quickly."

Draco seemed to waver. He looked terrified as he stared into Dumbledore's face, which was even paler, and rather lower than usual, as he had slid so far down the rampart wall.

"He's not long for this world anyway, if you ask me!" said Amycus, to the accompaniment of his sister's wheezing giggles. "Look at him — what's happened to you, then, Dumby?"

"Oh, weaker resistance, slower reflexes, Amycus," said Dumbledore. "Old age, in short . . . One day, perhaps, it will happen to you . . . if you are lucky. . . ."

Dumbledore's response seemed to anger the Death Eater, who began yelling violently; "Always the same, weren't yeh, Dumby, talking and doing nothing, nothing. I don't even know why the Dark Lord's bothering to kill yer! Come on, Draco, do it!"

At that moment, there were renewed sounds of scuffling from below them, and a voice could be heard shouting, _"They've blocked the stairs — Reducto! REDUCTO !"_

"Now, Draco! Quickly!" said Bella, urging him on.

Hermione could see Draco's hand shake so badly, even if he tried, his aim would have missed Dumbledore entirely.

"I'll do it," snarled Fenrir, moving toward Dumbledore with his hands outstretched, his teeth bared.

"No!" yelled Bellatrix, blasting the werewolf out of the way, "Draco, do it!"

But at that precise moment, the door to the ramparts burst open once more and there stood Snape, his wand clutched in his hand as his black eyes swept the scene, from Dumbledore slumped against the wall, to the six Death Eaters, including the enraged werewolf, and Draco.

"Severus…"

The sound terrified Hermione more than anything ever had in her life. Dumbledore, the great Dumbledore, was actually pleading.

Snape said nothing, but walked forward and pushed Draco roughly out of the way. They fell back without a word. Even the werewolf seemed cowed. Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and hatred etched in the harsh lines of his face. Hermione wondered how much of it was real. What was Snape doing?

"Severus . . . please . . ."

Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore. Hermione bit her lip to stop herself from screaming.

 _"Avada Kedavra!"_

A jet of green light shot from the end of Snape's wand and hit Dumbledore squarely in the chest. They watched in in rapt attention as Dumbledore was blasted into the air. For a split second, he seemed to hang suspended beneath the shining skull, and then he fell slowly backward, like a great rag doll, over the battlements and out of sight.

"Out of here, quickly." said Snape, who grabbed Draco by the scruff of the neck and forced him through the door ahead of the rest. Hermione and Theo followed right behind them, both still in shock.

 _"Petrificus Totalus!"_ came a shout from behind them. They turned to find Amycus' stone like body on the floor, and Harry Potter clambering over him with a look of determination. The Death Eaters hurried down the stairs, Hermione heard Alecto shout a counter curse at Amycus before running after the rest.

The battle raged, she barely saw who she was throwing curses at, and she couldn't care less. All she knew was that she had to follow Draco and Snape, and she had to bring Theo with her. Seeing the rest of the Death Eaters fighting behind her, she grabbed Theo, and ran after the professor, dodging spells as they did so.

 _"It's over, time to go!"_ Snape shouted loudly as they disappeared around the corner. They raced through the castle, running past students and leaping over toppled suits of armor. Snape shot several spells to clear the way. Before they knew it, they were running across the lawn, heading to the gates so that they could Disapparate.

Hermione risked a look back, and she could see several Aurors giving chase, Potter among them, and the rest of their group following. Several jets of light doomed past them, hitting their mark. Out of nowhere, Hagrid's Hut burst into flames.

Hermione and Theo shot curse after curse behind them, hoping to catch on of the Order by sheer luck. Hagrid had stormed out of his hut in a roar of rage, and was fighting several people at once.

 _"Run!"_ Snape shouted to the three of them as a jet of light soared past his head. The professor stayed back to face Potter, and the two raised their wands simultaneously. Hermione grabbed the two boys' arms, forcing them to run faster.

Another look behind her showed Snape just behind them, he caught up with them in mere second. "Take Draco!" she yelled at her professor, who nodded in understanding. He Disapparated just as a curse hit the spot where they were standing.

Hermione turned to Theo, a look of urgency on her face. "Hold onto my waist firmly." she said, and as soon as Theo locked his arms in place, they Apparated.

They landed with a thud, rolling onto gravel on their hands and knees. Theo got up first, and helped her to her feet. Snape and Draco were already dusting themselves off. Several pops of Apparition sounded the arrival of the rest of the group.

Snape led them into Malfoy Manor, his head held high.

* * *

To say the Dark Lord was happy would have been an understatement. The moment Snape told him the news, the man broke out in peals of terrifying laughter.

"Well done!" he said, looking down from his makeshift throne. "And who is it that served the final blow."

"It was I, my Lord." Snape said, bowing his head.

"And yet did I not say that young Draco would be the one?"

Hermione's heart filled with dread as she watched from the sidelines.

"Draco did well till the end, Master." Snape drawled, "I merely assumed, that with Dumbledore being as powerful as he is, that it would have been much faster had I killed him."

The Dark Lord seemed to consider the answer for some time, his eyes focusing on the two men in front of him.

"Very well." he said finally, "You have done well, Severus. As have you, Draco. You shall be rewarded for your work.

"You are all dismissed!" his voice rang out, "Celebrate, for Albus Dumbledore is no more!"

A cheer went out amongst the Death Eaters as Snape and Draco bowed in respect to their master, leaving their posts to join the throng of celebration. Hermione embraced Draco as he approached, and she felt him sag against her in relief.

"It's over." she whispered in his ear, "It's all over.

* * *

Hermione, Theo, and Draco did not return to Hogwarts for the rest of the year. They could not, really. After the Battle of the Tower, Malfoy Manor saw its fair share of Death Eater activities. Every other day, a few witches and wizards came, though they never did see the Dark Lord come or go.

Theo left the day after the battle, his father deciding that he should come home, which left Draco and Hermione alone together.

Their relationship brought various obstacles with it. Somehow, their dynamic seemed to have both strengthened and changed drastically, and it did not go unnoticed. Although Narcissa had many things on her mind, the Dark Lord staying in her home, for one, she caught on almost immediately.

The two were called for tea just a few days after their arrival in Malfoy Manor. Hermione was escorted by a nervous looking Draco into Narcissa's greenhouses, where the coy faced woman was sitting, sipping on tea.

She gave an inquisitive look to the two of them, and said one word, "Explain."

Draco cleared his throat loudly. "We weren't sure how to tell you." he began, "With everything happening, we could not decide when was the right time."

"The right time for what?" Narcissa asked daintily.

"I'm courting Hermione." Draco said matter of factly, which caused Hermione to blush prettily, much to Narcissa's delight.

"How long has this been going on, then?"

"It's fairly new." Hermione said, "A little less than a week."

"Oh," the matriarch said with an arch of her brow, "what took you so long, Draco, dear?"

Draco sputtered, at a loss for words, "What — what do you mean?"

"I mean," Narcissa said, with a sly grin, "Hermione is a beautiful young lady whose charms should have been acknowledged sooner rather than later."

Seeing Narcissa torment her boyfriend was a nice break from everything that had happened, and she joined in on the teasing.

"All jokes aside, though," she finally said, "I assume you two understand what this entails?"

"Yes, Mother."

"Yes, Narcissa."

They chimed together.

"Very well, then." she smiled, "Then I give the both of you my blessing."

* * *

Hermione found herself alone in the Malfoy library, reading an article about Dumbledore's funeral at Hogwarts by a window overlooking the gardens. It was rather early in the morning, and Draco never woke up before ten o'clock. She had expected to be undisturbed until then, but she was mistaken.

"I see that nothing can stop you from being an insufferable know it all." drawled a voice approaching her. She looked up to find her mentor walking towards her, still clad in head to toe black, and looking like everything was normal.

"Hello, Professor." she said, folding the Daily Prophet and setting it down. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Snape smirked in amusement, "You can say what you want, child, the room is secured."

"Good," she snapped waspishly, her tone changing abruptly, "What the bloody hell is going on? I've been waiting for you to contact me for days!"

"Allow me to explain." Snape said, sitting down across from her, "It was all according to plan.

"Killing Dumbledore was according to plan?" she asked flatly.

"He asked me to." Snape said, nodding. "You don't need to know anymore except that all of this was anticipated. Dumbledore purposely ignored your messages. Regarding that, do not send messages until after the 31st of July."

Hermione knew better than to ask why. "Where do we go from here?"

"Proceed as needed." Snape said, "Remain as you are until I say not to, or until it is needed. I won't be able to guide you through everything. You shall still be attending Hogwarts next year, the Dark Lord has seen to that."

She wondered how that was going to work. "So I go on missions and do everything the Dark Lord tells me from now on?"

"Yes." said Snape, "Accept all his commands without complaint, and always remember to close your mind."

"Do you think we can win this war, Professor?" she asked.

"I sincerely hope so, Miss Dagworth-Granger."


	45. Chapter 45 : Familiar Faces

**Chapter 45 : Familiar Faces**

Hermione expected more from her nightmares, flashes of green light of Dumbledore's lifeless body toppling over, but her dreams were worriedly vacant. Maybe nightmares ceased exist when your life already was one?

A week into the seventh month, she was called into the meeting room. Draco had looked at her with wide eyes when she received the message.

"Only you?" he asked, glancing over the letter.

"That's what it says." she said, a growing uneasiness festering in the pit of her stomach. She folded the letter up before getting to her feet. "I'll see you later."

He nodded, a faraway look settled on his face as he told her to keep safe.

The doors to the Dark Lord's meeting room were shut, as always, but upon arrival, they flew open, urging her in. Several Death Eaters were already inside, she counted Yaxley, Rowle, Dolohov, and several other men she did not recognize. Their master was not yet inside the room, suggesting that the meeting was yet to begin.

The long table that usually occupied the Dark Lord's inner circle was vacant, the other men were taking seats as they pleased. She stood uneasily at the entrance of the room, unsure what she should do.

"Sit anywhere you like." said Dolohov, approaching her, "When meetings do not involve the Inner Circle, we may sit wherever there are vacancies."

Hermione nodded thankfully, as she took a seat at the far end of the table. Time elapsed and more people began appearing, until there were about over twenty Death Eaters in the room. Bellatrix drew everyone's attention as she walked into the room, her heels clicking on the stone floor.

Her hair was in its normal state of disarray, and the insane smile she wore was set in place as she moved through the room to take her seat right next to Hermione. She suspected that this was not where Bellatrix usually sat, since her standing had been elevated considerably in the Dark Lord's rank ever since Lucius' arrest.

"Good afternoon, Aunt Bella." she said with a smile at the women.

"Good afternoon, my dear." Bellatrix cooed, "Are you excited for your first mission?"

"Very much so." she grinned, enough malice into her words to make Bella chuckle.

"Sadly, there won't be any muggle torturing today, darling." Her words caused a surge of relief to fill Hermione, she had yet to cast a Cruciatus on someone, and wasn't keen on ever having to do so.

At that moment, the a silence fell on the room, and she turned to the door to find that the Dark Lord had arrived. Collectively, the DeathEaters rose to their feet, bowing as their master passed. He took his place at the head of the table, the farthest chair from Hermione.

"I have gathered you all today for a task as important as any." Voldemort said, his voice brought chills down her spine, "It is time to free our brothers from Azkaban."

The Dark Lord paused as a cheer went through the crowd. "I have no instructions except get our men out and do away with everyone who tries to stop us."

Little murmurs of assent echoed in the hall, Hermione smiled coldly, seeing Bella observing her from the corner of her eyes. The room waited in anticipation for their cue; at the Dark Lord's nod, people began Disapparating here and there. She hesitated for a moment, which was all her aunt needed to grab hold of her wrist.

"Come now, darling." Bellatrix grinned, "Hold on tight."

Hermione braced herself as they were wrenched out of Malfoy Manor. Suddenly, they were standing atop a jagged cliffside overlooking the prison. The building looked as terrifying as people made it out to be; it was surrounding by dark swirling clouds, which she knew to be dementors. They would not bother them, their master had made sure that the beings' allegiance was to him alone.

Bellatrix's grip on her tightened, she had not realized that the rest of the Death Eaters were advancing towards the gates of the prison. A siren rang out, piercing the silence. The wizards guards had sounded the alarms. Several men poured out from the gates facing their opponents head on. Hermione could see the terror on their faces as they realized that the Dark Lord himself was leading them.

One man opened fire, and almost immediately he was shot down with a burst of green light. Lord Voldemort had not even lifted a finger. Bursts of light erupted all around them, and the Death Eaters found themselves held back by a protective wall. Many of them tried and failed to bring the shield down. With a look from Bellatrix, she tried her hand, steeling herself to use a particularly strong curse.

 _"Deuro detraxi!"_ she yelled, her voice ringing out amongst _Bombardas_ and _Confringos_. Almost immediately, the shield splintered, looking as though a glass wall had been cracked. The Death Eaters surged onwards, and Bellatrix gave a cackle of mirth, which drew the attention of the worst person she could think of. The Dark Lord craned his neck their way with a sinister grin on his face.

"Well done." he hissed, just as Bella pulled her forward, leading her into the fray of fighting.

They outnumbered the guards four to one, entering the building with ease. Azkaban was not a cheery place, and Hermione felt as much as soon as she stepped inside. It was as if a chill went through her as she crossed the threshold. The halls were dark, the only light coming from torches on the walls. Wind came through small windows carved out of stone, which caused a howling sound to echo through the prison.

Several other guards came running towards them, but they were quickly knocked down. Bellatrix shot Cruciatus after Cruciatus, and the wizards fell to their feet as soon as her spell hit.

"It's your turn, my dear!" Bellatrix screamed at her excitedly as another man came running their way. Hermione looked at her aunt sharply, but was only met with a stare of lunacy. Knowing that Bellatrix would not let her get away with anything less than a Torture Curse, she steeled herself for what she was about to do, silently sending an apology to the man heading towards them.

 _"Crucio!"_ she screamed. The curse tore through her throat like she was being exorcised. It left her feeling a little light headed and sent a surge of energy through her body, as if she had just drank a pint of Firewhisky. The man fell to his feet, his body twitched violently as she held the curse for just over five seconds as they passed.

Bellatrix gave another malicious round of laughter. "YES!"

Finally, they reached the highest floor of the prison, where the worst of criminals were kept, which included the Death Eaters captured after the Battle at the Ministry. Ahead of them, several of their comrades had already begun breaking down the walls. She saw one man stumble out of the rubble, and recognized him as Rookwood. Bellatrix began an onslaught of curses, firing at the cell in front of them. Hermione went to work on the one immediately opposite, reigning in curse after curse. Pieces of stone flew every time a curse landed, and soon enough, a hole large enough for a man to pass through appeared.

Hermione lit the cell with her wand to find Rabastan Lestrange crouched in a corner looking destitute. "Rabastan." she called out, her voice cutting through the sounds of her comrades yelling. The man raised his head, his face was contorted in a look of confusion; as if he was not sure if her voice was real.

"Rabastan," she said again, "it's time to go."

She levitated the man to his feet, refusing to extend a hand to help him. Who knew when the last time he had washed his hands was?

He stumbled for a moment, and Hermione waited for him to compose himself. She cast a Rejuvenating Charm over him, watching as its effects took hold. Almost immediately, his face cleared, and was set into its usual sneer. He brushed past her, not even acknowledging the fact that she had just freed him Hermione huffed, as she was left alone in the cell. Death Eaters had next to no manners at all.

She joined the rest of the men quickly, and saw that Bella had succeeded in taking her husband out of his cell. Hermione moved on to the next one, this time, it fell easier than the last one. She stepped inside to find Lucius Malfoy cowering inside, looking terrified for his life.

"Lord Malfoy, it's me." she said blankly, trying to mask her disdain for the man,"We're here to free you."

She cast the same charm on him, and waited for the man to collect himself before leaving the cell. She could not care less for the elder Malfoy. When she appeared out of the cell, it seemed that the rest of the imprisoned Death Eaters had already been freed, and the group was collecting in the corridor. Hermione saw Bellatrix motion for her to stand beside her. She obeyed gingerly. The woman was beginning to really get on her nerves.

"It's time to go, dear." Bella whispered. "I have to take Rodolphus. Would you be a dear and handle Lucius?"

Hermione nodded, holding her tongue as she watched her aunt Disapparate with her husband. She made her way towards Lucius, who still looked shell shocked, his eyes were wide in surprise as he took in the scene in from of him. Hermione held out her arm for him to take.

"Hold on." she said flatly, Disapparating as soon as he took hold of her wrist. She wrenched her arm away from him as soon as they were on solid ground again. The gravel crunched under their feet as many other witches and wizards appeared in front of the Manor. The Dark Lord was standing on top of the steps of the Manor, facing them, he wore a cold smile on his face as he surveyed his men.

Without a word, and a flurry of robes, he disappeared into Malfoy Manor. Hermione stood there, unsure of what to do as the people around her began helping the men they had just rescued up the steps. She saw Narcissa and Draco walk out the door with expressions of shock and disbelief on their faces. Narcissa practically ran towards her husband, enveloping him into an embrace that Lucius seemed too bewildered to return.

She watched Draco make his way hastily down the steps, expecting him to make straight for his father. Instead, he came walking towards her. She stood stunned as he cupped her face in his hands, searching her face worriedly.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Hermione could not form the words to say that she was, instead, she nodded weakly, reaching to place a hand over his. He pulled her close into a familiar embrace.

"Thank Merlin." he whispered into her hair.

Hermione should not have felt happy in that moment, but she could not stop the ecstatic surge of joy that ran all the way to her toes as she realized that Draco had went to _her_ instead of Lucius.

* * *

Hermione found life with Lucius back in the Manor to be as awkward as she had imagined. Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange were also taking up residence in the Manor, so she tended to avoid communal places like the dining room.

It was apparent to everyone that the Malfoys had lost their standing in the eyes of the Dark Lord, and it drove Lucius mad. He was less composed and more irritable, which did not work in Draco's favor. She often had to distract her boyfriend from his wreck of a father by coming up with various ways to distract him. She thanked Morgana that Draco was like any normal boy whose thoughts flew out the window as soon as they started snogging. It was during one of these moments that Theo happened upon them in the library.

"Ugh." came a disgusted voice. The two broke apart, both of them turning to glare at the intruder. "Don't look at me like that, you're the ones eating each other's faces off in public places."

"The door was locked." Hermione said, crossing her arms in irritation.

"And I'm a wizard." Theo said with a smirk, "Anyhow, I sincerely hope the two of you forgive me for interrupting your romantic little moment, but it's quite urgent."

The pair of them tensed at the word urgent and stared at their friend expectantly.

"The Dark Lord's requested our presence, Mione." Theo said, training his eyes on her. Hermione sighed heavily. She had begun to wonder when her next assignment would be.

"Just Hermione?" Draco asked, taking her hand in his while his face twisted with concern.

"Yeah, mate." said Theo, understanding Draco's unease, "I'll make sure to try and stop her from killing herself, don't worry."

Hermione sent the boy a withering glare, to which he raised his hands in surrender. "Seriously, though, the meeting's starting in a few minutes. Yaxley told me to tell you. I took the liberty of getting your cloak for you."

Hermione nodded her thanks. "Can you wait outside for a moment, Theo? I won't be long."

Their friend smiled warmly before shutting the library doors behind him.

"I don't like this." Draco said with a frown, "I know why he's keeping from missions, but I don't want you out there with me stuck here worrying about whether or not you're still breathing."

Hermione sighed, reaching up to brush his hair back affectionately, "I'm tougher than I look, you know that. I'll come back, I promise."

He pulled her towards him in a tight embrace. "I'll be wating." he whispered. "Be safe."

She pressed a soft kiss to his lips before standing to leave.

"Do you know what he wants us to do? It's almost eleven o'clock, what could he possibly want?" Hermione asked Theo as they ran down the stairs.

"Haven't the foggiest." Theo said, "I think we're going out of the country, though. Yaxley said something about Bulgaria."

They were ushered inside the meeting room quickly. More than thirty Death Eaters were scattered around the room. Bella seemed to be absent, as was Lucius. However, the Lestrange brothers were there, as were Dolohov, Avery, Marcus Flint, Adrian Pucey, and Casius Warrington. Hermione and Theo nodded to their seniors in acknowledgment before standing in one of the corners of the room, avoiding the high table at all costs.

The Dark Lord entered the room mere moments later, and the same pin-drop silence settled among them as they waited for the man to speak.

"Mykew Gregorovitch." Voldemort begun, "He has something I want. It has come to my knowledge that he is living in a little village in Bulgaria. I want you to find him. Stop at nothing until he is found and brought to me, also, wreak havoc, brothers and sisters."

A few smirks appeared throughout the room at the Dark Lord's last words, and Hermione hid her disgust at the men with looks of excitement on their faces.

"Unfortunately, Bulgaria is tight in security. One team of you has been assigned to finding Gregorvitch, those who have not been briefed about this, you have the task of ensuring that Bulgaria has no security whatsoever after tonight."

The Dark Lord signaled that he was finished with a nod, and like last time, Death Eaters began popping out of view. Hermione and Theo glanced at each other before Disapparating away.

The night was dark, the only light coming from sparsely lit street lamps. Hermione and Theo glanced around for a few moments, unsure about what they were supposed to do. None of the Death Eaters had Apparated near them, but they could hear explosions echoing through the small town, sparks of wand fire lit the sky as well as several explosions.

"Do we just start destroying shite?" Theo asked.

"I think so." she said, not quite sure herself.

Theo there the first spell at a shop window, breaking the glass and lighting the inside on fire. Hermione watched as the flames spread rapidly, after a while she heard screaming coming from the second story of the building.

"There are people inside." Hermione said in horror.

Theo's face was not visible under his mask, but she could hear the guilt in his voice. "What are we supposed to do?" he asked, "Orders are orders."

"Do you really want to be a murderer, Theo Nott?" she hissed, eyes flashing intensely behind her own mask. The flames danced dangerously inside, climbing quickly.

"No." he said. "But if we don't do this, the Dark Lord will have our heads."

"I can regulate the flames so that they wont kill." she said, "You just start the fires."

Theo nodded, his face was set in a serious mask as they proceeded in burning the village down.

As they were beginning to start the fire on their third building, a red jet of light zoomed towards them. Hermione shielded the both of them nonverbally, and turned sharply in the direction where the spell was cast. Five or so men were approaching them quickly, shooting curses as they did so.

'Fuck." she hissed, "Theo, some help?"

Her shield was strong enough to keep the two of them covered as they exchanged curses with the men in front of them. Hermione sent a _Stupefy_ directly into one man's chest. She watched him fall down, in a heap.

Theo shot a curse at another one of them, succeeding in whatever he had tried to do because the man shouted in pain.

 _"Diffindo!"_ Hermione yelled as she aimed for the nearest man's leg. One spell had somehow gotten through her shield, hitting her in her arm. She looked down to see her left arm bleeding profusely.

"Do not retreat!" this came from one of the men still standing. He shot another spell towards her. It zoomed past her luckily.

"Focus!" he yelled, seeing how close she had come to getting her head blown off.

"I know that voice." she whispered. Theo did not seem to hear her, because he Immobilized another man, throwing him back as he did so.

Another spell hit the same arm and she cried out. Theo shouted angrily, shooting spell after spell.

Hermione quickly pulled his wand arm down while simultaneously shouting, _"Expelliarmus!"_ towards the only man standing.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Theo hissed at her.

"Stop." she said, her voice void of emotion. "Don't throw any more spells until I say so."

Hermione approached the man, who seemed to have steeled himself for physical combat, as if he expected that he could field off a curse with a punch. Instead of cursing him, though, Hermione threw a counter curse at the body she had just Stupefied, allowing the man to pick himself up.

As she moved closer, Hermione could see his face more clearly. He had not changed since the day she had last saw him. His eyes were burning darkly, although his brows were bunched together in confusion.

"There are more of us." she said, her voice was flat and empty, "Much more. Do not try to fight. They are stronger."

The man she stupefied spat at her feet. She did not react.

Hermione threw the wand she had taken to the ground. Her eyes met with his for only a moment.

"I warned you." she said, "Be safe, solnishko."

She saw the recognition flash in his eyes, then disbelief. Before he could react, she Disapparated to where Theo was standing, grabbed her friend by the collar and Disapparated again.

"What the _fuck_?" Theo yelled as soon as they reappeared in an empty street. Fires were raging all around them now, and explosions masked the sounds of screaming.

"I don't want to talk about it." she said, "Start the fucking fire."

Just as Theo was about to say something, they both gasped in pain, grabbing at their forearms. They Disapparated again, appearing in front of a burning house. Several Death Eaters surrounded the premises and they watched as their master stepped out of the flames, a triumphant smile on his horrifying face.

* * *

 **a/n:** _hey guys! sorry I haven't updated as soon as I'd hoped. I'm on vacation in Singapore and only just now found the time to update. I'm heading home in a couple of days and I'll try to post the next chapter then._


	46. Chapter 46 : The Declaration

**Chapter 46 : The Declaration**

Hermione slammed the door behind her, ripped off her Death Eater robes, tossed her mask to the floor and threw herself onto her bed face down. She had ignored Draco, who was waiting by the entrance of the Manor when they arrived. The Dark Lord had left them after he had killed Gregorovitch, which allowed her to shake off Theo before he could ask her anything. The room was quiet except for the occasional sob that forced its way out of her every now and then. Then, after a while, she heard voices from the other side of her door.

She held her breath, hoping that they would get the message and stay away. Sadly, they didn't. The doorknob rattled angrily, and to her disappointment, her friends stepped inside. Hermione tried burying herself deeper into her bed like an ostrich. She heard the door close.

"Go away." she said in a muffled voice. Her bed dipped on the side, and a warm hand settled on her shoulder. After a moment, the door opened and closed again. Finally, she relented, allowing herself to face him. Her eyes were red and her breathing was labored. His face was lined with worry that she hated herself for having caused.

"You don't have to tell me." he said.

"Viktor." she said in a rush of breath. She watched as her boyfriend's worried look twisted into one of shock and confusion.

"No, I'm Draco." he said, looking mildly hurt.

Shrugged his hand away and sat up. "I know who you are." she mumbled, "I mean I saw him. I fought against him. If I hadn't realized it was him —" The words caught in her throat. She did not want to imagine what would have happened if she had immobilized him, left him for the others to finish off.

"Circe." she whispered to herself. "What am I doing?"

Draco pulled her closer, letting her sob into his chest. "It's going to be fine." he soothed, running a hand through her hair. "He's fine, you didn't hurt him. It's fine."

She shook her head, trying to pull herself away but this only made Draco hold on tighter.

"I shouldn't be crying to you about my ex-boyfriend." she said through her sobs.

"I don't care." said Draco. "Cry to me about anything. Tell me anything. Everything. I want to know it all. I'm here."

Hearing these words from Draco, who had always seemed so cold and distant, somehow made her want to cry even more.

"Thank you." she said, as he released her finally, and wiped her tears away.

"I'll be sending you a bill for the shirt you ruined." he joked, pointing out the wet spot on his shoulder that she had caused. She laughed weakly.

"I hope this ends soon." she said sadly.

Draco pressed a kiss on her forehead. "I hope so too."

* * *

Hermione stared at the body that had floated into the room blankly. The meeting room was filled to the brim with followers, all watching in rapt attention as their master levitated the Muggle Studies professor above the table.

"Do you recognize our guest, Severus?" asked Voldemort. As he revolved the woman to face the firelight, she said in a cracked and terrified voice, "Severus! Help me!"

Snape looked onwards, eyeing his colleague with a disgusted scowl on his face. "Ah, yes,"

"And you, Draco? Hermione?"

Draco shook his head jerkily, but Hermione nodded just once, keeping her head straight and refusing to even glance at the Dark Lord.

"You would not have taken her classes, of course," said Voldemort. "For those of you who do not know, we are joined here tonight by Charity Burbage who, until recently, taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." A few noises of comprehension came around the table, as well as a cackle from one of the older Death Eaters.

"Yes . . . Professor Burbage taught the children of witches and wizards all about Muggles . . . how they are not so diferent from us . . ."

The professor whimpered again, saying Snape's name over and over as if it were a prayer.

"Silence," Voldemort said with a twitch of the wand he had taken from Lucius. "Not content with corrupting and polluting the minds of Wizarding children, last week Professor Burbage wrote an impassioned defense of Mudbloods in the Daily Prophet. Wizards, she says, must accept these thieves of their knowledge and magic. Th e dwindling of the purebloods is, says Professor Burbage, a most desirable circumstance. . . . She would have us all mate with Muggles . . . or, no doubt, werewolves. . . ."

The room sat in silence, all of them feared the anger and contempt in Voldemort's voice as he said this. Snape's name died on Charity Burbage's lips as she was struck by green wand-light and she fell. with a resounding crash, onto the table below, which trembled and creaked. Several of the Death Eaters leapt back in their chairs.

Hermione had anticipated it. She steadied the back of Draco's chair as he almost fell backwards, and looked in morbid curiosity at the still face of the professor who had landed just a few feet shy of her.

"Dinner, Nagini." said Voldemort softly. The snake crept up the table slowly, and this time Hermione did look away. She expected the man to dismiss them, but he pushed on.

"A team will be formed to come with me to kill Potter." he said, "I shall choose only the strongest, only those I have the most faith in. I shall send for you if you have been chosen. Prepare yourselves for your part in the Chosen One's demise."

* * *

"He's joking." she said, staring in disbelief at the piece of parchment clutched in her hand. Draco was once again looking distressed. "I'm one of his strongest and most trusted?"

"What did you do to make him like you?" Draco asked, his brows were furrowed in confusion.

"I don't know!" she groaned. "It's probably Bella's work. The woman thinks I'm just like her!"

"Well, sometimes —"

Hermione glared at him menacingly, daring him to say a word as her eyes flashed darkly.

"See! Right there! You look exactly like her!" Draco exclaimed.

"You seem rather excited to point out that the girl you've been snogging these past few weeks looks exactly like your mother's sister." she snapped.

"Oh, Merlin's pits." Draco said. "Never mind. You're a universe different than Bella."

She rolled her eyes at him. "This says I have to meet the Dark Lord in ten minutes."

"He's a bit late isn't he? Potter's being transferred tomorrow after all." pondered Draco.

"No one questions the master." Hermione said jokingly as she hopped off the couch. "I'll see you later."

Draco held on to her hand tightly, the feeling of allowing her anywhere near the Dark Lord still filled him with a heavy sense of unease.

"I'll be alright." she said, squeezing his hand, "Let's walk around the grounds when I get back. I think I might need a breath of air after the meeting."

He nodded tersely and watched her leave. It seemed that that was all he was doing these days.

When she came back a few hours later, it looked as if Hermione had been drained of all the energy she had. Draco stood as soon as she walked through the doors.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine." she said, "He's agitated. I think he's a bit wary of the plan. Marcus and I are the only young ones he chose. We have to ride brooms, so I understand why he chose Flint, but there really isn't a reason why he chose me."

Draco glowered, he had been mulling over several reasons why she would be chosen, the one that made sense, he did not like at all. "Come on." he said, pulling her out of the library, "Mother's Moon Flowers should be blooming by now."

Hermione followed him out, finding it odd that he had slipped into a stony silence. She held her mouth until they were alone. Night had settled over the Manor, and the moon bathed them with a soft glow. They walked around in silence for a while, she allowed herself to enjoy the quiet.

"He's angry at us." said Draco abruptly, making her pause in her tracks. He turned to face her and she could see in his eyes that he was very deep in thought. "He has been for quite a long time."

"What does that have to do with anything?" she asked.

"It has to do with a lot, I think." said Draco, "With the prison break out, and Bulgaria, and now Potter.I know you're strong Hermione, probably more than you even let on, but the Dark Lord doesn't know that. What he does know is that you're my girlfriend.

"You know that Slytherins almost never act directly, there's always a plan, a motive for everything, and _he's_ the vey essence of being Slytherin. You were the only newly inducted follower in Azkaban, and he sent you to Bulgaria probably knowing that Krum was part of the resistance, and now he's chosen you, out of nowhere, to help get Potter, who will most likely be guarded by a dozen Aurors and the rest of their Order. Don't you think that's a little too convenient?"

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, what if you're part of his plan? What if he's using you to punish me and my family for how poorly we've done? What if he's trying to hurt you to get to me?"

"You're barking." she said, "He couldn't possibly think that way… he'd have to think that I actually matter enough to hurt you as much as he'd like."

"You think you don't?" Draco asked, seemingly surprised.

"We've only started seeing each other after all, and well I'm just me…" she trailed off uneasily as his eyes flashed.

"You're kidding me." he said, although he sounded more annoyed than amused. "Sure, " _you're just you_ ", that's the point. You're you, the same you that saved me more times than I can count, the same you that stuck by my side no matter how many times I pushed you away, the same you that risked your life for _me_. You're prefect, and maybe I once thought that I hated you because of it, but I don't. I'm not one for romance or any of that shite, but you should know that when I asked to court you, it was with the intention to marry you, because there's no way in all the circles of hell that I'm letting you go now."

Hermione was stunned into silence for once, which made Draco smirk.

"You can be so bloody dense sometimes." he chuckled, "I have no clue how this conversation came to this, but there you go. I'm sure the Dark Lord knows as well as I do how irrevocably in love I am with you, and he probably knew it before you did, if the look on your face is anything to go by, so yeah, it would hurt if he took you away from me. It would hurt quite a lot."

"Did you just propose?" she asked, still unable to rap her head around what had just happened. It was as if Draco had let out a string of words but her mind wasn't comprehending anything. Next to her, he snorted.

"Trust me, if I was proposing, you would know." he said. "I've just laid out my plans. I guess I thought they were your plans too, I shouldn't have presumed anything." He began to ramble, and looked pathetically lost upon seeing the blank look on her face.

"No," Hermione said forcefully, "it's alright, presume away. I just — I haven't thought that far yet."

"I understand." he said, "After all this, though, all the shite that's happening, will you begin planning then?"

She nodded, smiling shyly as she met his gaze. "I'll be sure to add your name into the plans though."

"Good." he said, "You should know that your name's all over mine. I have my schedule booked with you from now until about let say … forever?"

"I like the sound of that." she said, blushing prettily.

"I still don't understand how we wound our way to talking about this." he murmured.

"I don't care." she said, unable to hid the smile she had been pushing down, "I'm in love with you too."

They met each other, and it was beautiful, filled with promises and hope and dreams of a future that they knew might not exist, but they dreamed anyway. They dreamed because that was the only thing that tethered them to the world. In that moment, nothing else existed except the other, and the taste of love that neither knew could taste so sweet.

"I'm not letting him take you." Draco whispered as he held her tightly.

"He won't." Hermione promised, relishing the feel of his heart beating against her chest. "I love you."

* * *

 **a/n:** Thank you for the reviews and feedback! I'm appreciate the guys that corrected me over some of the French stuff. I really don't know much about it, and I already try my hardest with English, so I rely a lot on online translators. I've been trying to get my friend who's studied French before but we're both busy so I have to settle for now. I'll try to fix and edit some stuff once I finish the story! Thanks for being patient.


	47. Chapter 47 : The Beginning of the End

**Chapter 47 : Year Seven**

There were _seven_ of him. She cursed under her breath as she soared through the night sky, Flint was flying alongside her as they both chased after one Potter doppelgänger and a red haired man on board a thestral. Flint shouted a curse as them, succeeding only in maddening the thestral as his spell bounced off them.

Hermione shot a spell, trying to break the shield, once it splintered, she was able to get a slicing hex in, getting the man on his back. She heard a shout of pain break through the silence of the night, then a flash of light came darting towards her. She swerved to her right, balancing precariously on her broom. Once she had righted herself, she dashed after them again, seeing that Flint was relentless and his arsenal of curses was rather large.

 _"Reducto!"_ Hermione shouted, but the curse was deflected easily.

Then, out of nowhere they disappeared. _Shit._ Hermione thought to herself. She felt a burning pain on her left arm, and judging by Flint's dangerous dip in the air, he had felt it too.

"Let's go!" she shouted to him, just before they Apparated away to wherever their master was summoning them.

The Death Eaters involved in the mission all stood in a line in front of their master in the ballroom of Malfoy Manor, watching with steely expressions as he tortured Garrick Ollivander in from of them.

"Take him away!" barked the Dark Lord. Almost immediately, the frail old man was grabbed by the shoulders by Yaxley and Avery, and dragged back into the dungeons.

Voldemort was seething as he paced back and forth in from of them, out of the corner of her eye, Hermione could see Snape down the line.

 _"Crucio!"_ the Dark Lord said suddenly. The spell hit her like a flash of lightning and the pain was surging right down to the roots of her hair. She fell to her knees, but did not allow herself to crumple up. Her teeth were biting into her lip painfully. and her insides felt like they were being turned into molten lava.

When he lifted the curse, Hermione was a mess of strangled breaths and perspiration. She kept her head down, unable to do much else.

 _"Crucio!"_ she flinched, expecting the spell to land on her, but it appeared that their master was in need of releasing his fruition on more than one of his servants tonight. Hermione saw someone fall to the floor far on her right. Then another one fell, and another.

When he was satisfied with the screams and pleading for mercy, the Lord Departed, leaving his men behind. Hermione shrugged off the hands that tried to help her up, instead, she got to her feet weakly, still reeling from the effects of the curse. Every know and then, she would flinch in pain, as if she was hit by an aftershock.

She passed Snape on her way out, their eyes met very briefly before the looked away. Neither of them was allowed to show that they knew each other besides their teacher-student relationship. Hermione limped to her room, hissing in pain every now and then as surges of pain ran down the back of her spine.

Draco was waiting for her in her room when she got there. He jumped to his feet the minute the door opened, and upon seeing her, he tried to help her by holding her by the waist. Hermione let out a gasp of pain.

"No touching." she said, as dark spots clouded her vision, "It still hurts. _Fuck._ That was worse than I ever imagined." Even talking seemed to hurt, her throat was raw, even though she hadn't screamed.

"What happened?" Draco asked, watching worriedly as she plopped herself to the floor to lean against her bed. Hermione ignored him as she took her wand out from her robes and pointed to herself.

 _"Frigidus Sana."_ she said in a single breath. The relief was immediate, and the familiar feeling of ice cold water being doused over her filled her person. She inhaled deeply, trying to get as much air in her burning lungs as she could. When she opened her eyes again, Draco was still watching over her like a hawk.

"Cruciatus." she croaked. Upon hearing that, he instantly paled more than he already was, which was quite a feat, considering the fact that he already looked pale as a ghost. "I'm fine." she said weakly, trying to ease his mind.

"Is there anything I can get you? Water? Calming Draught?" he asked.

"Just help me up, please." she said, allowing him to carry her to the bed. Draco helped her sit up against the pillows. "He's furious." she said after a minute. "We didn't get Potter."

"Why did he torture _you_?" he asked.

"He was mad." she said, as if this explained everything. "It wasn't just me. I think Rowle and someone else was punished too."

"I knew it." Draco said, "I told you he was trying to get to me."

He backed away from her slowly with a look of fear flashing across his face, as if he had just discovered she was inflicted by a contagious disease.

"So help me, Draco Malfoy, if you walk out that door right now I will curse you until your arms fall off." she growled.

"Don't you understand?" he said in frustration, "The closer you are to me, the more he'll torture you. You're like this because of me."

"No, I'm like this because that man is a megalomaniac and a bleeding lunatic. I'm like this because I have this bloody mark on my arm and I can't get rid of it. I'm like this because it was my _choice_ , it isn't because of you."

Draco looked around the room fearfully, as if the Dark Lord would suddenly burst through the walls. "Don't talk like that." he hissed, "We should stop seeing each other, Hermione, for your safety."

"You're an idiot." she snapped, trying to stand. She stumbled as soon as she tried to take a step towards him. Immediately, he was at her side, helping her up. Hermione grabbed hot of his arms tightly, forcing him to look into her eyes. "This isn't your fault."

"I'm supposed to be protecting you. I'm supposed to keep you safe." he said exasperatedly, as if he was berating himself, "Instead you're being tortured for being associated with me."

"I can protect myself, Draco." she said,

"That's not the point!" he said, "I know you can. I just — you aren't supposed to get hurt."

"I knew what I was getting myself into when I got inducted." said Hermione adamantly, "Did you think that I didn't expect this?"

"He wouldn't have hurt you if we weren't so close." Draco said, looking away from her.

"You can't possibly know that." she said. "The Dark Lord tortures who he pleases, when he pleases. If he hadn't cursed me earlier, he would have done so eventually. It wasn't because of you."

Draco refused to look at her, it seemed that he was fighting a battle inside his own head.

"You leaving me would be a torture worse than anything the Dark Lord can throw at me." she said softly, as she cupped his cheek. A weight suddenly fell on her shoulders, like a wave of fatigue had crashed into her. A soft cry escaped her lips, and she fell limply against Draco.

He held her up, his hands gripped her arms tightly, and pain reverberated from those places like she was being shocked.

"Let me lie down." she said urgently.

As soon as she was back on her bed, Draco stood, his face set in stone. "Dippy!" he called out. A pop sounded, and tiny house elf appeared into the room. "Will you please get my mother? Tell her it's urgent."

Dippy nodded dutifully before disappearing. Hermione reached for Draco's hand, twining her fingers weakly in his. He turned to look down at her, the unease was showing in his eyes.

"You said please." she said with a smile. Draco smiled back at her warmly. She tugged on his hand, urging him to take a seat. He obliged, though he was balancing himself on the very edge of the bed. "I love you."

He held her hand tighter, looking conflicted. "I—"

"What's happened?" came a soft voice from the door way.

Draco stood immediately, looking alert. "She was _Crucioed_. I don't know how to help her."

Narcissa's eyes widened in shock and the woman hurried forward, wand in her hand as she surveyed Hermione.

"I cast Frigidus Sana earlier." she said to the woman, "I think the Dark Lord's spell was too strong for it to completely douse the side effects."

Narcissa nodded in understanding, "His curses are always stronger than the normal, especially when he's in a mood. It's a good thing you knew the spell though, you'd be looking much worse if you hadn't."

She pressed a palm against Hermione's forehead, "You're burning up." she stated, "Draco, leave us for now."

He hesitated, looking down at his girlfriend. Draco didn't want to leave her like this.

"Go," said Hermione, "I'll be fine."

After a moment, he stepped away, closing the door behind him.

"I will be fine, right?" she asked Narcisssa worriedly.

"Yes, just let me fix you up a little more." she said, "Can you take your robes off for me?"

Hermione did as the woman asked, doffing the heavy black robes until she was left in a plain white silk slip.

Narcissa began chanting under her breath, and soon the room was filled with sweet scents of herbs and oils and Hermione's bones felt lighter than she had ever remembered them being.

"I didn't know you did healing magic so well." Hermione said, watching the woman work.

"I was married during a time of war, to a man that came home every night either covered in blood or half-dead because of countless curses cast on him. It was something that I needed to learn." she said simply.

"You're a very good wife." Hermione noted.

"It is my duty." Narcissa said, nodding.

"One day, I hope that I might be able to be as good as a wife to Draco as you are to Lucius." she said, watching the woman. Narcissa's reaction was immediate; her hands stilled, stopping her ministrations, her wand fell to the bed and she turned to look at Hermione with wide eyes.

"He hasn't proposed yet." she said quickly, "But yesterday, he told me his intentions. After the war, I think he will, but he knows that it isn't the right time."

Narcissa's eyes shone with tears as she hugged Hermione tightly. "I _knew_ you were perfect for him. The moment he introduced me to you years ago, I just _knew._ Oh, my darling."

She seemed like a different person altogether, as if something had come over the woman suddenly. "Draco has changed so much from the boy he used to be, I think that has quite a lot to do with you, you know."

"I couldn't have possibly —"

"Malfoys need women who take charge, who put them in their place. I think Draco knew the moment he met you that you were the one, he just didn't understand it." Narcissa was rambling, "I was so worried last year, when the Dark Lord gave him his task, I was so scared I would lose him But then he told me you were helping him, and he seemed so sure that you would lead him to the right answer, and you did. I'm so glad."

She dabbed at her eyes lightly, as if she realized that she was talking very quickly.

"Narcissa," said Hermione, still staring at the woman in disbelief, "I love your son very much. I would do almost anything for him. Can I tell you a secret?"

Hermione knew she was taking a risk, but somehow she felt like the woman in front of her could be trusted. She nodded, "Of course, my dear."

"I became a Death Eater for him." she confessed, "I didn't want him to do it alone."

It was like a dam broke inside of Narcissa, and she began crying silently, pulling the girl into another hug. Hermione could feel her tears spill onto her shoulder.

"You darling girl," she said, sobbing, "You brave, darling girl. I'm sorry you have to go through this, I really am. I begged Lucius not to allow Draco to take the mark, but he was adamant, I couldn't have stopped him."

"I know." Hermione said, patting the woman's back consolingly, "It's alright."

"Thank you," Narcissa said, breaking away finally, "Thank you for loving him."

"Thank you for raising him." Hermione said with a smile.

"Come now, let's get you in shape." Narcissa said, "Oh, I've made a mess of myself."

* * *

She was not called upon for the rest of the summer, not when they ransacked the Weasley Wedding, not when they took over the Ministry either, which, to both her, Draco, and Theo, who had both not received summons from their master, was a relief. Hermione and Draco spent their days holed up in the library, strolling through the Manor grounds, or lying on the grass in Narcissa's green houses.

Every once in a while Hermione and Narcissa would have tea together, and she would teach her a few things about healing, which Hermione noted down diligently. The woman had grown warmer as the summer ended, which helped her quite a bit, since she hadn't seen her own mother in almost a year. Alphard messaged her every now and then, to see how she was doing but other than that, contact with the rest of her family was restricted.

The three of them were all wary of returning to Hogwarts, knowing that the marks on their arms would mean something this year. With Snape as Headmaster, and the Carrow twins as professors, they would have to be the worst they possibly could be.

Hermione, Draco, and Narcissa were having breakfast in the greenhouse one morning, Lucius ate inside his rooms, which he never left unless he was being called upon. It was a few weeks before classes and they were all anxious of their return. An elf popped into the room just as they had begun eating, and handed three letters to the students.

Hermione opened hers, overturning it onto the palm of her hand. Before the parchment hit her hand, a heavy metal badge fell on her outstretched palm. She turned it over with wide eyes as she read the crest.

"Sweet Circe," she whispered.

"Good on you, Mione!" said Theo from across the table, "I got prefect this year, too! Oi, Draco, what do you have?"

Draco presented his own badge, the gold metal shining at them where the letters _HB_ were embossed on the front. Hermione grinned at him impishly.

"I always wanted to be one half of a power couple." she joked.

"Congratulations, all of you." Narcissa said with a smile. "I know you three deserve it."

"It doesn't hurt that Snape's the new Headmaster though." said Theo thoughtfully.

"I'm sure Severus chose your positions fairly. I do not doubt for a second that any of you have performed less than what was expected of you." said Narcissa.

"Of course, Narcissa," nodded Theo.

"Have you all acquired your school things?" she asked, "If not, I shall make a few calls and send the houseelves to pick up them up."

"Thank you, Narcissa." Hermione said, smiling at the woman.

"I'll leave you to the rest of your breakfast, then." she said, standing up, "Have a good day."

Draco pecked Hermione on the cheek as soon as his mother was out of sight. "Congratulations." he said.

"You too, I know you worked hard for it." she said, setting down her badge and letter.

"Are you two going to keep acting like this? It's been two months, already, wasn't the honeymoon phase supposed to stop last week?" Theo complained as he took a bit out of his omelet.

Hermione and Draco glared at him witheringly.

"Why are you here, again?" asked Draco.

"Because I'm your best friend and my father's presence at Nott Hill is suffocating?" Theo suggested. "Also, because I'm your unofficial chaperone."

"Bollocks," said Draco, "You're as much a chaperone as Blaise is a virgin."

"Oi, your mum asked me to keep an eye on you two, you know." Theo said, wagging his eyebrows, "Can't have you sneaking off to romp about."

"Shut it, Theodore." Hermione said in irritation, "You'll just have to get used to it."

"Ugh, I don't think I'll ever get used to the two of you staring at each other _lovingly_. It's terrifying to see you both like that, it's unnatural, I tell you."

"You're being over dramatic." she said, at the same time Draco said, "I don't look at her _lovingly."_

She turned to him, her brows raised in question, "You don't?"

Theo snickered across the table, only to have his lips stuck together with a silent spell from Hermione. Draco's eyes widened in alarm as his girlfriend rounded on him like a snake ready to strike.

"Of course I do!" he said, back tracking, "I'm just shy to admit it, is all, you know how I am."

Hermione smirked at him and patted his hand in approval. "That's what I thought you meant."

She heard Draco sigh in relief as she lifted the jinx off of Theo.

" _You_ are a menace." he said, pointing at Hermione, "And _you_ , are thoroughly whipped." he pointed to Draco.

The pair of them shrugged at their friend, simultaneously taking sips of tea.

"Get used to it." they chorused, earning an annoyed groan from the boy.

 **n/a:** Hi friends! This is the start of seventh year, which will proceed rather quickly. The story is coming to a close! I've already written a lot of the end chapters, and I'm pretty excited to end my first story wahu! Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter. :)


	48. Chapter 48 : Sweet Dreams

**Chapter 48 : Sweet Dreams**

Hogwarts castle had always been somewhat haunting to Hermione, who was used to French sunlight, and white painted walls with gold trim. When the school halls were empty, lit only by torchlight, shadows cast on the walls, and the wind blew throughout, it seemed like something out of a story book. But somehow, the castle felt darker when she stepped into the Great Hall for the seventh year in a row. The change was tangible; as if a dark mist had settled in the air.

The student population had dwindled considerably, most pulled out for their protection. She watched as the first years cowered in the middle of the hall as they approached the Sorting Hat one by one. The houses clapped as they usually did, but it was lackluster, there was no howling, no cheerful cries of mirth or slaps on the back. The Slytherins welcomed their own with narrowed eyes and sly smirks.

Hermione noticed that the Gryffindor table had changed drastically, Potter, Weasley, Longbottom, and another boy she couldn't remember was missing from the seventh year line up. She did, however, notice the presence of Ginny Weasley, who was glaring at the Slytherins like they had stolen everything dear to her.

It seemed that their house was alone in retaining their spirit. They all cheered as Professor Snape — now Headmaster Snape, stepped onto the podium.

"Welcome," he drawled, voice ringing throughout the room, "As your newly appointed Headmaster, I expect that each and every one of you is to abide by the rules of the castle, do what is asked of you, and follow your orders. And because it is my duty, I wish you all a good year ahead of you."

Hermione could almost laugh at the perpetual sneer that was imprinted on the man's face. Several students wore unimpressed expressions on their faces as the Potions master went on.

"… Alecto and Amycus Carrow. Alecto will be overseeing Muggle Studies, which is now a requirement for all year levels, and Amycus will be teaching Defense of the Dark Arts. They are both under me as your new Deputy Heads."

The Carrow twins were gazing upon the students as if they were delectable morsels of meat left out for them to feast upon. Hermione shuddered to think what their classes had in store for them. Snape stepped down from the podium readily, signaling the beginning of dinner.

Hermione watched the other teachers as they ate, observing McGonagall sit stoically next to Alecto Carrow, who was cackling loudly beside her brother. Flitwick looked to be rather nervous, as he jumped from his seat every time Amycus opened his mouth. She sympathized with the professors greatly, the Carrow twins were not easy to ignore.

"Do you ever think the Carrows aren't right in the head?" she pondered over her black pudding.

"Mother says they've been a bit mad for the past two generations." Blaise said, "But you can't go saying things like that, Mione, since your own family hasn't been quite sane since Walburga."

She cringed, "Merlin, I hated that woman, she was worse than my Maman."

"Your mother's nice, Hermione." Daphne frowned.

"Not during lessons, she isn't. She's an even bigger perfectionist than I am. I'd get blisters all over my feet from trying to walk in heels on gravel with books on my head for hours on end while reciting family lines."

"We all had to go through that." Pansy said, rolling her eyes.

"It doesn't make it any less painful." she said, "Anyways, it seems Potter isn't gracing us with his presence this year."

"How could he?" scoffed Blaise, "He's Public Enemy No. 1, the moment he sets foot in the castle, Snape'll be shooting curses like a madman."

"Hermione?" Daphne's voice had taken on an odd quality, making her face the witch in confusion. Her best friend was staring at her, eyes wide as saucers.

"What's wrong Daph?" she asked.

"What is that?" the blonde said haltingly as she pointed at her neck. Hermione flushed, glancing down at the silver chain glinting proudly. She had disillusioned her Messenger necklace so that she could display the emerald encrusted pendant with the Malfoy coat of arms. All eyes, except those of Theo and Draco, who was looking quite pleased with himself, settled on her.

"Oh," she said softly, "Draco gave it to me."

"I figured that." hissed Daphne, "Are the two of you…?"

"Yes, we are." said Draco, answering for her when he saw she was getting rather flustered.

Daphne shrieked, gaining the attention of a few inquisitive eyes. "How come you didn't write to me?"

"I wanted to in person." Hermione said, flushing. "It's all quite new."

She saw Pansy's face morph into a scowl, and Hermione couldn't stamp down the feeling of triumph at the girl''s jealousy.

"Congratulations," Blaise smirked, "I was wondering when you two would get it over with."

Daphne slapped him up the head for the comment, "How long?"

"Since July." she said shyly. She was watching Draco out of the corner of her eye, unsure about how much information he was comfortable with divulging about their relationship. Sensing her unease, he turned to smile at her, taking her hand into his from under the table.

"You witch, stealing Malfoy right from under us." sniffed Daphne, "Who does that leave us now? Theo and this sorry excuse for a man?"

The girl's joking tone got a laugh out of Hermione, who began to feel less awkward with the situation.

"I resent that." Blaise glowered, "I consider myself to be a fine specimen, a prime example of—"

"We get it, Blaise, you think you're Merlin reincarnated, shut up." said Theo, rolling his eyes.

"It's official, then? Your parents have agreed and everything? It isn't an open courtship?" Daphne wanted to ask more, bursting at the seams with questions.

"He formally asked my grandfather via letter of intent a month ago." she said, "Narcissa and Lucius seem to be agreeable."

"My parents are far more than agreeable. It's a wonder they didn't have us wed immediately." hearing him say this aloud caused her to flush a bright shade of red, "And I'd rather cut my own arm off than allow an open courtship."

"I could have asked for one." she said haughtily, ignoring the heat rising to her cheeks.

"You didn't though." Daphne pointed out, making Draco smirk.

"I would have if I wanted to." she said again.

"But you didn't," grinned Blaise.

"You can wipe that smirk off your face." she hissed at her boyfriend, who only tightened his grip on her hand.

"You look a bit flustered, Mione." Blaise taunted.

"Sod off," she snapped.

"Aw, come one, Hermione, we're just excited for you, that's all." Daphne said sweetly.

Hermione rolled her eyes at her friends, "Rotten snakes, the lot of you."

They shared a round of laughter, which sounded out of place in the abnormally quiet Great Hall.

* * *

"First years, gather around!" Draco called from beside her. They were both in the middle of the Slytherin commons, having just rounded up the new recruits to their house. The class of about six students appeared in front of them, and the rest of the house stood by, watching their welcoming.

"As you all know, Slytherin House is renowned throughout the wizarding world," Draco began, Hermione looked at him as he spoke, watching his eyes light up with pride, "it is your duty now, as Slytherins, to carry on that legacy. We, as well as the Slytherins before you, expect nothing less."

"Our house is known for its cunning, ambition, and thirst for power, and you have been Sorted here because you have what it takes to be here. This year is quite – different – than previous years, but we Slytherins take care of our own. Draco and I, as well as our prefects and those in the years above you, will always be here if you require our assistance."

"Keep in mind that we will only help you as we see fit." Her boyfriend said, with a smirk.

"Moving on," she said, "if any of the other houses cause you trouble, come straight to us. Watch each other's backs, I don't doubt that the rest of the school has it in for us this year."

"That goes for the rest of you lot, too," Draco called out, eyeing his housemates, "Do what you need to do, but don't get the teachers involved, if you can handle it."

A murmur of assent was heard through the common room just before Hermione began speaking again, "Your dormitories are down the hall, girls to the left, boys to the right. Dismissed."

The crowd dispersed, leaving only a few students milling about. Hermione allowed Draco to take her hand in his, squeezing it tightly as they went to sit with their friends.

"You're scarily compatible." Daphne observed, watching the two of them.

"I second that," said Blaise, "I can almost imagine you, Mione, you'll be running Malfoy Manor in no time."

Hermione glanced at Draco, who was looking already looking at her, "Yes, quite." She murmured, unsure of how else she should react.

Draco smiled knowingly, leaned back against the love seat, pulling her along with him so that her head was against his chest. Hermione could feel his breath as they settled comfortably.

"One step at a time, love," Draco said under his breath. Hermione squeezed his knee, a small smile on her face.

Monday brought them into the new agenda of the school as they plunged directly into a Defense class. She took a seat next to Draco while they waited for Carrow to appear.

He came striding into the room minutes later in a flurry of black robes and a scowl on his face. He took a piece of chalk and began writing on the board, his penmanship was impeccable, which was common in most pureblood circles.

'The Dark Arts." was the only thing he had written on the board.

"Welcome to the Dark Arts," he said, his voice was deep, carrying an undertone of malice, "where I will teach you the one true, most powerful branch of magic. In this class, you will be expected to do everything I tell you to, everything. Anyone who does not do so will be consequently punished as I see fit, and earn themselves a failing mark for this class."

They sat stock still, even the Gryffindors they were sharing the class with, though there were only five of them left, kept their mouths shut at the words of the Death Eater.

"Now who can tell me about the Cruciatus Curse?"

* * *

Hermione fell on her bed in a heap of tired bones, her first day back had been a horror to go through. The Slytherins had both Carrow twins in their schedule that day, and they had to sit through two hours of Alecto ranting about dirty, muddy, Muggles.

She was ready to prepare herself for bed when a pop sounded in the room. Sitting upright, Hermione felt the crunch of paper under her palm as she did so. The groan of irritation had been threatening to bubble up out of her escaped her lips as she read the letter from Snape.

Hastily, she threw on her robes once again, casting a Disillusionment charm over herself before stepping out of the dorms. She did her best to silence the sound of her footfalls as she made her way through the sleeping castle. The sounds of the staircases moving only succeeded in filling her with a growing anxiety in the back of her mind.

The gargoyle slid aside at her whisper of the password — Lilium — and she clambered up the familiar spiral staircase. Snape was waiting for her when she stepped into his office, as she expected. The sight of him grading papers at his desk caused a wave of nostalgia to crash into her, had it really been so long since that first Occlumency lesson?

"Good evening, Headmaster." she said, calling his attention, though she knew that he was aware of her presence as soon as she uttered the password to the office.

"Sit, Miss Dagworth-Granger." he said. She obliged, sitting directly in front of him in a emerald green wing backed chair.

"You've had quite the upgrade, sir." she said with a smirk, "I believe congratulations are in order."

"Don't give me cheek, girl." he drawled in annoyance, "Have you anything to report?

She shook her head regretfully, "I haven't been called to any of the meetings since the mission to capture Potter, you know that. I haven't heard anything either, Lucius never talks, Narcissa knows next to nothing, everyone else avoids talking about missions with other people around."

"I expected much," Snape said, "The Dark Lord's plans are usually not divulged to lower ranking Death Eaters."

"How are you informing the Order about anything, Sir?" she asked.

"It isn't possible at the moment," said Snape, "They don't trust me after what I did, reaching out to them would be a death wish."

"So do we just leave everything to fate, then? Trust that Potter somehow figures out how to find and destroy all of his horcruxes?"

Snape glared at her, growing annoyed with her insolence, "There is nothing else we can do, Miss Dagworth-Granger, besides watch and wait, though you may be capable of something more."

"I'm just as powerless as you," she said.

"On the contrary," Snape said, "you have the medallion."

"Who has its brother?" she asked, brows furrowing in confusion.

"Potter, of course, it was bequeathed to him in Dumbledore's will." Snape said.

Hermione's mouth opened in surprise, "I've had contact with him all along?"

"Yes, and while we're on the matter of the late headmaster's will…"

* * *

"Crucio!" a voice cackled from down the corridor. Hermione froze in her tracks, she was on the way down to the dungeons from Snape's office, the voice had sounded just as she stepped onto the second landing. She stepped towards the noise warily, her ears felt like bleeding at the sound of the pained whimpers that echoed through the silence.

"Who goes there?!" the caster exclaimed, hearing Hermione approach. She recognized the voice of Alecto Carrow, her guess was proven when she turned the corner to find the Death Eater with a young Hufflepuff girl at her feet, writhing under the effects of the spell.

"It's me, Professor," Hermione said sweetly, throwing a malicious smirk at the Hufflepuff for good measure.

"Well, if it isn't Bellatrix Junior," Alcto grinned, what are you doing, girl?"

"Rounds, Professor, I'm Head Girl," she said, still smiling,

"Ah, that makes sense," Alecto said thoughtfully, "would you like to have a go, then?"

"I think it wouldn't be appropriate for a student to be issuing punishments, ma'am." Hermione said, watching the girl as she cried.

"You're a Black," the woman pointed out, "you can do anything you please, especially towards muddy filth like this magic stealing bitch."

"You flatter me, ma'am." she said, "But I'll leave the fun to you, however, I can offer to drag the Mudblood to Pomfrey when you're finished."

Alecto sneered at the younger girl, "It doesn't deserve to live,"

"A death one week into the school year would be bad press, Professor." Hermione reasoned.

The woman seemed to ponder this for a moment before nodding in agreement, albeit, grudgingly, "You're right. Well, I suppose you can take it up to the nurse. If you change your mind about punishing her, feel free to do as you wish."

Alecto left with a flurry of robes and the sound of heels clicking on the cobblestone floor. Hermione went to work quickly, levitating the frightened girl towards a dark alcove.

"Please…" she gasped, "have mercy…"

"Shhh," she hissed, "don't move, don't do anything, it just makes it worse for you."

Hermione cast a healing spell and a calming charm on the girl, watching as her shoulders slumped in exhaustion, and her eyelids fluttered closed.

"Obliviate," Hermione whispered, extracting the memory of her helping out of the witch's mind befor levitating her towards the hospital wing.

* * *

Hermione tossed and turned in her four poster bed, she hadn't slept a wink since lying down for the night. One glance through the curtains at the grandfather clock told her that it was well past midnight, and the rest of her dormmates were fast asleep.

She sat up tiredly, the blanket lifting to expose her emerald green silk sleeping gown. After a moment of arguing with herself, she stood, sliding into her slippers and shrugging on a robe. The walk down the hallway was filled with the voice of her mother and grandmother in her head, admonishing here for even thinking of doing what she was doing. But Hermione wasn't some frail pureblood heiress to be locked away in a tower.

This was the thought that allowed her to drag her feet to the boys dorm, sliding the door open quietly. Her hands shook with nervousness, she tried to still them, reasoning that he was her boyfriend, she shouldn't be so anxious, but her muscles wouldn't listen.

She pulled the curtains apart and the bed dipped with her weight, and even then he remained fast asleep. Hermione smiled adoringly at Draco's serene face. His pale eyelashes dusted his cheeks prettily, and his breaths were even, a calming lullaby to her ears. She brushed a lock of hair that had fallen across his face, it was only then that his eyes fluttered open, blinking at her dazedly.

"H-Hermione?" he whispered in disbelief, "what are you doing here?"

"I can't sleep," she whispered, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment, "I keep seeing Alecto and Bella and –"

Draco pulled her into an embrace, she fell against him thankfully, not noticing that the tremble of her hands had stopped. "Can I stay with you?" she said quietly, unaware of how the boy's ears tinged link at her words.

"Are you sure that's a good idea, love?" he said, pulling away to look at her.

"We'll just be sleeping." She reasoned, "Please, Draco, I just need to be held tonight."

Draco smiled at his witch, scooting aside to make room, "Come on, then."

Hermione grinned thankfully, slipping off her robes, not registering the way her boyfriend's eyes flashed darkly at the flimsy material of her nightgown, or the dip of its neckline exposing pale flesh. Draco pulled her by the waist until she was pressed warmly against him.

"Thank you," she murmured, not wanting to wake his roommates.

"Anything for you," he whispered, planting a kiss on her forehead, "Now sleep, we'll deal with everything tomorrow."

* * *

 **a/n:** Hello loves, I'm back! I still haven't got my laptop fixed but I'm using my iPad now, so all is well, although terribly slow. I hope I haven't lost you guys yet! I'll try and have a new chapter up by the end of next week. Also I've been cooking up a rather clichè time turner HG/SB fic because I've run out of Marauder Era fics to read. It involves a saucy/sassy/sexy 19 year old Hermione and a Sirius Black with just as much attitude. Hermione's character deviates largely from her good girl persona, contesting Sirius in a myriad of ways. Send a review if any of you guys are interested in it so I'll know if I should continue with the story.


	49. Chapter 49 : Someday Soon

**Chapter 49 : Someday Soon**

"You can ask one of your little snakes to do it," snorted Seamus Finnegan from across the room. Hermione held her breath, watching the scene unfold as Amycus began to seeth in anger.

"You _will_ do it, or I will have it done to _you_." the professor said.

Finnegan seemed to hesitate for a moment before squaring his shoulders decidedly. "Have at it, then." he said.

"Malfoy!" Carrow barked, "Out of your seat, now!"

Draco stood slowly, sparing a small glance at Hermione before he did so. His girlfriend was no help to him, her mouth was set into a grim line, knowing all too well just what was about to happen.

"You know what to do, Malfoy." Amycus sneered, "Hold it for five seconds, let's see if you have what it takes."

Draco approached the front of the class where the two men stood. Finnegan was beginning to look worried at the blank expression on Draco's face. Hermione forced herself to watch as he took out his wand from his robes.

" _Crucio."_ he said, loud and clear for the whole class to hear. The gasps of several Gryffindors could be heard as a jet or scarlet light left Draco's wand, hitting Finnegan straight in the chest. The boy crumpled to his knees as his body shook erratically, and he shouted as the curse filled his senses.

Draco promptly ended the spell, but Finnegan did not get back on his feet, or, more aptly, could not. Draco walked back to his seat, his footfalls sounding louder than they had before.

"Pathetic," Amycus spat, kicking the groaning Gryffindor in the ribs, who jerked at the sudden intrusion on his person. "Ten points to Slytherin, Mr Malfoy. The rest of you now know what happens when you refuse to do a simple thing such as follow instructions.

"Madam Pomfrey has been informed about the new punishments, and has been instructed not to aid students who _chose_ not to heed orders. You are to suffer the consequences of your actions."

He paused, waiting to see if any of them would protest. When none was heard, he continued. "Next time, I will have you practicing your Unforgivables one by one. Class dismissed."

The Slytherins stood immediately, passing by Finnegan's body as they left. A few of his housemates were already helping him up. Lavender Brown levitated him, wincing as he let out a pained groan.

Hermione kept her eyes forward, willing herself not to react to the way Brown was glaring at her accusingly.

* * *

"Where are you going?" Draco asked, once they had finished their rounds for the night.

"I have a meeting with Snape," she lied, "go on without me."

"I'll escort you to his office." he said, taking a step towards her.

"No," she said hastily, "it's fine."

"Hermione, it isn't safe, the rest of Hogwarts has it in for us -"

"I can protect myself," she said, smiling sadly before closing the gap between them. She reached up to cup his cheek. "You've had a long day, go rest."

Draco took a deep breath, "I didn't want to do it." he admitted.

"I know, I know you didn't." she said, before pressing a feather light kiss on his lips. "Go sleep. I'll be fine."

"Will I be expecting a bedmate tonight?" he said, smirking at down at her, his expression changing instantly.

She glared at him in mock anger, "Not with your cheek, you aren't."

He wound his arms around her waist, bringing her closer. "I don't think I would be as sane as I am now if you weren't here." he said softly in her ear, making her heart pound loudly in her chest.

"I have to go," she whispered, almost losing herself in his mercurial grey eyes.

"Then go." he said. She willed herself to look away, to take a step back, but her body refused to follow, making Draco's smirk deepen.

"You sure you don't want me with you, love?" he asked cheekily, before kissing her soundly on the lips. Hermione nipped his lower lip playfully.

"Unhand me, Malfoy." she said, grinning.

"Oi, get a room, you two!" called a friendly voice. The coupled broke apart to find Theo and Pansy approaching them, having finished their rounds. Pansy took one look at how close they were, and their similar flushed expressions and rolled her eyes in irritation.

"Shove it, Nott." Draco said.

"I'll see you later," Hermione said, untangling herself from Draco's hold.

"Keep your wand out." he warned.

Hermione disillusioned herself as soon as she turned the corner. The familiar feeling of cold water running down her back filled her and soon enough she was camouflaged. The walk to Gryffindor Tower was quick, owing to the fact that she ran most of the way there. Her mind raced faster than her feet as she ran, thinking about Finnegan and the after effects of the _Cruciatus_. Her robe pocket was heavy with a few potion bottles, silenced so that the clang of glass against glass would not be heard.

The Fat Lady opened automatically as soon as she muttered the password under her breath - the privilege of being Head Girl - and ignoring the look of confusion on the portrait's face, she went inside.

"Did any of you see that?" someone said as the portrait door closed.

"See what, Colin?" another said.

"The portrait just opened." the former said.

"Well, it _is_ a door, Creevy." another teased.

"But noone came in." said Colin.

"You're imagining things again, Colin, just go to bed."

Hermione held her breath as she maneuvered through couches and students, running up the steps towards the boy's dorms two by two. The seventh year dorm held only a lonely bed with a sleeping form hidden under the sheets. She sympathized with the Gryffindor, three of his friends were the most wanted people in the world and the other trying to survive being hunted by snatchers and Death Eaters.

Finnegan twitched in his sleep, and then a tremor went through his body before he settled once again.

"Carrow was guarding the hospital wing earlier." whispered someone from behind Hermione, making her jump in surprise, thinking that it was she being addressed.

"Bloody bastard," came the response. It was Lavender Brown and Ginny Weasley, hanging by the doorframe, looking over their housemate.

"I don't know how to help him," said Brown worriedly, "and we can't owl for help because Snape has his eye on the mail."

The Weasley girl sighed in frustration, "We'll all be dead by Christmas if this keeps happening."

Brown flinched at the redhead's harsh words, "Don't say that, Ginny."

"I'm going to try and get McGonagall." Weasley murmured, turning to leave, Brown hot on her heels.

"If the Carrows catch you looking for help…"

Hermione waited for silence to fall upon the room before approaching the bed. Finnegan was covered in sweat, his face contorted in agony as he went through the effects of the curse. Even though Draco hadn't meant to cause any pain, his wand work was still close to perfect, and the desired outcome had been reached.

She pulled her wand out of her robes, and as quietly as she could, said, " _Frigidus Sana."_

The spell washed over Finnegan, dousing him like a cold wave, almost immediately, he settled, as if every muscle in his body relaxed. Hermione heaved a sigh of relief and then took out the pouch of potion vials from her robes, scanning through the labels until she found what she was looking for.

She mixed half a dose of pain relief and half a dose of Calming Drought in an empty vial before pouring it down Finnegan's mouth, watching vigilantly as he swallowed the formula reflexively.

Then, she conjured up an earthenware pot, setting it on the bedside table, then took out a bundle of mixed herbs - white sage for healing and, cedar for purification from dark magic, and lavender for peace - with a whispered " _Incendio."_ she lit the tip of the smudging stick, and put the flame out with the pot.

Hermione then fanned the smoke over Finnegan, around his head towards his feet. Even she could feel the soothing effects of the plants as the earth magic seeped into the room. She laid the stick on the pot alongside the pouch of potions.

She turned to leave, wary at being discovered, but the memory of Lavender Brown's worried face flashed through her mind. Hermione sighed, but it was with a determined mind that she searched for a quill and parchment, when she did find them, she penned a hasty note, left it on the nightstand, and hastened away.

"What's that smell?" Colin Creevy said, this time, the sudden opening of the portrait door went unnoticed by him.

"I think it's coming from Seamus' room." said one of the Gryffindors.

"What?" Lavender said, "Nobody's there."

A look was shared between her and Ginny before the two girls raced into the dorm room, only to find the warm scent of sage, cedar, and lavender reach their noses. They approached the bed cautiously, only to find Seamus laying still, fast asleep, his face a perfect mask of serenity.

"Who did this?" said Lavender, her eyes brimming with tears.

"It is important to fight, and fight again, but you must remember that you do not fight alone." Ginny held a torn piece of parchment in her hands, the handwriting elegant and practiced, " _Frigidus Sana_ \- for when the pain is too much. _Vulnera Sanentur_ \- for when blood has been spilt."

"Who do you think it's from?" asked Lavender.

"Whoever it is, we owe them a life." said Ginny, pocketing the note.

* * *

She crept into the Slytherin boys' dorm, donning her nightclothes, and her hair twisted in a bun atop her head, to find Draco sitting on the side of his bed, hands holding an open letter. He looked up as she neared, neither pulling away or seeking her out as she sat next to him.

"Is it Narcissa?" she asked quietly, watching his face twist in frustration.

"The Dark Lord punished father again," Draco said in a tormented voice, "he was angry - about what happened at the ministry the day after we came back here."

"Potter infiltrating the Ministry? It wasn't just a rumor, then?" she asked.

"No, it was real. They took something, I don't know what, but the Dark Lord was furious, he torured half the Manor in his anger. My father hasn't woken up since."

Hermione set a comforting hand on his shoulder, but retracted it quickly when he shied away. She tried to hide the look of hurt that had appeared on her face at his rejection, but he had seen it.

"Forgive me," he said, unable to meet her eyes, "I just -"

"He's your father, I understand if you're hurting." she soothed.

"That's the thing," he said angrily, crumpling the paper in his hands, "I'm not.

"My father -" she watched him swallow hesitantly, "he Isn't a good man. I know that now, I think even _he_ knows that now. He was the one who pledged my name to the Dark Lord. _He_ made the decision to hand me over, as if I were an offering to appease his master."

Hermione placed a hand over his, willing his shaking fingers to calm, "Draco-"

"I never wanted this," he spat out, "Maybe once upon a time, I thought that being a Death Eater would finally make my father proud, but what did the Dark Lord ever do for him? Hermione, I don't want this."

It broke her heart, to see him this way. Draco had always been so distant when it came to showing his true feelings. The man next to her was so different from what she was used to. Hermione tightened her grip on his hand.

"Does it make me a bad person?" he whispered, "Not to care whether my father is lying in bed unconscious, fighting for his life?"

Hermione had no answer. Instead, she embraced him, allowing him to weep on her shoulder as the reality of the war took its toll on the man she loved.

* * *

The months leading to the Christmas holidays were more of the same thing as their first week. Normal classes proceeded, although they went on with a stiffness that hadn't been present in their previous years. The Carrows tormented every student they could get their hands on, and Hermione had had to make several trips to each House's common rooms to leave potions for their victims. Several students began disappearing altogether, and Hermione was vaguely aware of the formation of an anti-Death Eater group amongst the students led by Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood.

It took all she had to keep her friends safe from the retaliation the other students were seeking, and she and Draco had enforced a rule in Slytherin house that no one would leave the common room alone. Hermione sighed deeply, just as a book went flying from across the room. She shot up from where she was lying on the couch inside the common room, glaring at the source.

"Draco!" she snapped, brows furrowed at the man, "What's gotten into you?"

He ignored her, choosing instead to stalk angrily into the boys dorms, several eyes following his movements. Hermione stood to go after him, paying no mind to the intrigued looks of their housemates.

A crash came from inside the room before she could get to it, and the tell tale signs of spell casting flashed behind the closed door. She tried to open it, but he had sealed it shut.

"Draco!" she yelled upon hearing another crash from inside. Hastily, she brought out her wand, muttering every unlocking spell she knew under her breath, internally cursing him for being so good at ward charms. Finally, instead of wasting any more time trying to undo his charm, she cast a blasting hex at the door, sending it flying into splinters.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy!" she screamed over the loud sounds of curses landing on several objects. He was a mess, his hair was everywhere, his eyes looked deranged and his chest was heaving heavily at the loss of breath.

"Get out, Hermione." he growled.

"No." she said, glaring at him.

"Hermione…" there was a hint of warning in his voice.

"I'm not leaving this room until you calm down." she said angrily.

"Get out!" he barked.

"Make me!"

" _Flippendo!"_

It would have caught her off guard had she not known that her boyfriend had a habit of throwing tantrums. Hermione quickly cast a shield charm, blocking the effects of the hex.

" _Confringo!"_

Hermione deflected it again, stepping closer towards him.

" _Confundo!"_

The spell bounced off of her effortlessly.

" _Stupefy!"_

Once again, she avoided it by merely stepping aside.

" _Immobulus! Incarcerous! Incendio!"_

The spells all fell flat as she closed the gap between the two of them. "What the bloody hell are you doing, Draco?" she whispered, watching the rise and fall of his chest.

What he did then surprised her, because she thought, for a fraction of a second, she would strike her again. But he merely brought his arms up, cupping her face adoringly as he planted a searing kiss on her lips, stealing every once of air left in her lungs.

"That's either the weirdest form of foreplay I've ever seen in my life, or the both of you are fucking lunatics." drawled someone behind them. The two Slytherins broke away from each other, gasping for breath, blushing furiously at having been caught.

"Fuck off, Zabini." spat Draco, still mildly unnerved.

"I was just checking to see whether the two of you were still alive." said Blaise, "You may continue your ravishing of the other."

Hermione waited for Blaise to disappear completely before turning towards her beau. "What's wrong?" she said softly.

"We're going back to the Manor tomorrow." he said in frustration, running a hand through his hair. Hermione suddenly understood the reasoning behind his actions.

She wrapped her arms around his torso, looking up at him adoringly, "We'll get through this." she said, resting her head on his chest.

He ran a hand through her hair, taking shaky breath, "I promise you that I will give you a better life than this." he vowed, "One without fighting and evil and madness."

She smiled, craning her neck to look at him, "Any life is fine as long as it's with you." she said.

"No," he said flatly, "You deserve more than this. You deserve Paris, peace and quiet as you do your Potions experiments and stroll down the Seine. I promise you that life, Hermione, after this war, after everything, I promise to make you happy."

She smiled at him sadly, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Hermione was not sure how to reply, because she herself did not know whether she would live long enough for the life he envisioned for the both of them.

* * *

 **a/n:** Alright, another depressing chapter for all of you to enjoy! I got it finished quicker than I anticipated, thanks to a friend who lent me her laptop. I hope you guys liked it. Also, I would like to thank those who showed their enthusiasm for the HG/SS fic (it _is_ a Time Turner fic btw) I might post it after I'm done with OC&C. On a side note, though, who has downloaded the new Harry Potter game?


	50. Chapter 50 : Slyherin Support

**Chapter 50 : Slytherin Support**

"Ah!" she yelped, clutching her left arm reflexively, suddenly, her mind was filled with a hazy fog. She erected her walls quickly upon the intrusion.

"My Lord?" she whispered, her voice echoing in the recesses of her mind.

"Ah, there you are, child." came the haunting voice of Voldemort, "I have a job for you and the others, my dear."

"Anything you ask, my Lord." she said, bowing her head in subservience.

"I need you to find the Lovegood girl and bring her to me." he hissed, "I shall be waiting at Malfoy Manor. Do not disappoint me."

"Yes, my Lord." she said, and then, just as quickly as he had come, the Dark Lord left her. She shivered involuntarily, off put by the slimy feeling the monster's magic had left behind.

"Hermione?" asked Theo. He and Draco were looking at her worriedly. She glanced around, ensuring that no one was looking before casting a Muffliato and a Notice-Me-Not Charm over the both of them.

"The Dark Lord needs us." she said somberly, relaying his instructions to her friends. She watched as their expressions grew darker as she laid out her plan.

"Are you sure about this, Mione?" Theo asked worriedly.

"I can do this. Carrow's given me enough practice to rival Bella." she snorted.

The two young men nodded to each other before taking their leave, making their way down the train. Hermione followed a few moments later, disillusioned, with her wand in hand. She followed the two at a safe distance, watching as they through the carriage doors open.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" sneered Draco. Hermione smirked at the vehemence cin his voice. He really should think about beginning a career in theatre.

"Sod off, Malfoy." came the quick reply. Hermione crept towards the carriage, raising her wand so that it was pointed directly at the head of the blonde haired girl sitting in between the Weasley girl and Lavender Brown. Lovegood was watching the altercation dazedly.

"Imperio." Hermione cast nonverbally, the spell hit its mark, causing the Ravenclaw to blink a multiple of times before a vacant look came over her. It honestly didn't look as different than her normal expression.

"Act normally and leave in five minutes to go the the bathroom." Hermione instructed with a whisper, before continuing down the aisle. She tugged on Theo's robes as she left, looking back to make sure she had felt her signal.

The two finally appeared at the back of the train moments later. "Did you do it?" Draco asked.

"I think so." she said, "We'll have to see in a few minutes."

The trio did not have to wait long before a bewildered looking Luna Lovegood came walking towards them.

"Hello, Luna." Hermione said, "Stop walking."

The witch halted midstep, facing them.

"Do not resist." Hermione instructed. "Hold on to me and do not let go."

"I'll Apparate her to the Manor." she told her two friends. "You two follow after me, alright?"

They nodded their assent, watching her pop out of existence before following suit.

Hermione stumbled only a little upon landing in front of Malfoy Manor. She instructed Luna to let go of her, as she waited for the two others to arrive.

"He'll be waiting for us in the meeting room." she said, eyeing the daunting Manor with displeasure.

"Best not to make him wait, then." said Theo, gesturing her forward.

Hermione moved onwards, with Luna in tow. The four students entered the Manor easily. It seemed as if no one was around today. The door to the meeting room was closed. Hermione was forced to knock on the dark wood, waiting for the reply.

"Enter." came the muffled voice on the other side.

The did as they were told, pushing the door open readily. The Dark Lord was waiting for them on his makeshift throne, Bellatrix was standing beside him, a grin reaching ear to ear appearing on her face at the sight of their prisoner.

The Dark Lord nodded his approval as they approached. "Bring her to me."

"Go to the Dark Lord." Hermione instructed, a heavy feeling settling within her as she watched Luna approach the monster. Luna walked slowly, stopping just as she reached the Dark Lord's throne. Voldemort sneered at her, tipping her chin up to look at her.

"Just like her father," he hissed, "full of cocamamy beliefs. _Crucio_."

Hermione forced herself not to flinch as a tremor ran through Luna's body. Because she was still under the Imperius, she was not allowed to do anything except stand there, forced by magic to stay on her feet as surges of pain ran through her person. The Dark Lord smirked at the look of pain he had elicited from the girl before dropping the spell.

"Take her to the dungeons." he ordered Theo and Draco. "We need her alive."

The two young men disappeared behind the doors, bringing the shaking blonde along with them. Hermione stood unnaturally still as she was left alone with the Dark Lord.

"You have exceeded my expectations of you, child." he hissed, red eyes boring into her mind. Hermione closed herself off effectively, her walls coming up to display imagines of the capture of the Lovegood girl.

"I merely wish to serve you, my Lord." she said, relieved that her voice came out level.

"You have pleased me nonetheless." said Lord Voldemort, "Go now, child, until then next time I call upon you."

Hermione bowed, her hair falling down her shoulders as she did so masterfully covering her face so the man could not see that she never raised her hair low enough to lose sight of him. She took three steps backwards before taking her leave, the ghastly sight of scarlet eyes still staring back at her imprinted on her brain.

* * *

"Good afternoon, Narcissa." Hermione said, sitting down for tea. The witch was as cool and collected as she was the day they had left for Hogwarts, but Hermione knew tut this was all an act. Out of all the witches and wizards she had met in her life, she thought of Narcissa Malfoy as one of the bravest she had ever known.

"Hello, my dear, how have you been?" Narcissa asked, smiling softly.

"I've been as well as expected." she replied vaguely glancing around the greenhouse, silently casting a few mufflingcharms around them,"And you? Are you well?"

The Malfoy matriarch's expression wavered for only a fraction of a second, "I have been… coping." she sighed, "Lucius isn't himself anymore."

Hermione nodded in understanding, "Draco has been struggling recently, too."

"I am sure he is lucky to have you by his side in such trying times." she said.

"As I am lucky to have him by my own side." said Hermione.

"Narcissa," she said in a soft voice that conveyed all the seriousness she hoped to give the situation, "I love Draco, as well as Theo, and I want you to know that it is my prerogative to keep them safe first and foremost."

Narcissa smiled gratefully, "I always hoped that my Draco would end up with someone as strong as you, Hermione. I only wish that I could have provided Lucius with as much strength as you are giving my son."

"Narcissa," said Hermione, "if the time comes for me to choose between obeying the Dark Lord or doing what is best for Draco, know that I will pick Draco time and time again, as I always have."

The woman stilled, her hand freezing in the middle of bringing her teacup to her lips, "Are you implying…?"

Hermione gave a single stony nod. "I have always known the path your son was destined to take, I knew that I could do nothing to change it, so I changed my own."

The woman in front of her was suddenly overcome with a feeling of fear that filled her entire being. "It's not safe to speak of such things here." she whispered, wide eyes breaking her resolve. "I will come to you when the time is right."

Hermione nodded somberly, "Just know that I have Draco's and your best interest at heart." she said, standing to take her leave, "It's getting late, and the train ride here was tiring. Forgive me if For leaving early, Narcissa."

"Rest, child," said the woman, "Nimue knows you need it."

* * *

Hermione crept down the stone staircase leading down to the Malfoy dungeons, her body disillusioned and her feet silenced. As she reached the barred entrance to the prison, she took out two small vials of healing potions from her robes.

Luna Lovegood was lying on the ground where she had been left, next to Garrick Ollivander, who was watching over her helplessly. The old man, whose robes were now ragged and dirty, and whose face was gaunt with hunger turned abruptly to face her general direction. Hermione held a breath as his piercing blue eyes stared directly into her own.

"Hello, Miss Dagworth-Granger," he called out in a raspy voice, "do not be alarmed, child, I am always familiar of the magic my wands cast."

Hermione sighed, before setting the potions behind the bars. "Give one to her now and another tonight, I will return when I can." she whispered.

Suddenly, a heavy pressure settled on her shoulder and her blood turned into ice. Her breath caught in her chest as she was wrenched to face the one who found her, instantly her vision was met with the sight of shining silver eyes.

" _Draco_?" she whispered, exhaling shakily, "You scared me half to death."

"What in Merlin's beard are you doing, Hermione?" he hissed into her eared, still unable or see her properly.

"What are you doing here?" she snapped back, glancing at the parcel in his hands.

He sighed in resignation. "It's a bit of food." he said, "The house elves aren't allowed to feed them properly."

"I had to give Lovegood a potion," she admitted. "Leave the parcel with Ollivander, make sure to erase any trace of you, you should have taken proper precautions."

He had the sense to look sheepish at her admonishment as he knelt to give the food to the old wandmaker.

"I trust I will not have to erase your memory, Ollivander?" Hermione asked, after disillusioning her boyfriend.

"If you value your life, girl, I suggest you do it anyway." the man croaked.

She sighed tiredly before bringing her wand up to point at the man's forehead. "Obliviate."

Terse silence fell between the pair of them as they made their way to their chambers, both deep in thought. Draco held the door open to her room, it was only when she went to sit on her bed that she noticed he had not followed her inside.

"Come in," she sighed, motioning for him to close the door. Immediately after stepping in, he cast a myriad of silencing charms around the room, keeping a considerable distance between the two of them.

"Why didn't you tell me you were helping them?" he asked pointedly.

She shrugged, "The same reason you weren't telling me."

"How long have you been doing it?"

"Here? Not long." she admitted, "But I've been helping out at Hogwarts since the first week."

Draco, out of all the things she could have imagined him doing, smirked, "Should have known it was you behind the earth magic." he said.

"What?" she hissed, eyes widening in surprise, "How do you know that?"

"Theo and I may or may not have been extending our aid to the other houses recently. You're not the only martyr among us, Mione." he said, leaning against her bed frame.

"Did you at least hide yourselves?" she snapped.

"Yes, we aren't always incompetent." he said, glaring at her, before dropping his gaze to sit next to her, "You should have said something."

"I didn't know whether you could have kept the secret from the Dark Lord." she admitted, allowing him to wrap an arm around her waist.

"Occlumency is easy to learn for us." he shrugged.

Hermione stiffened, turning to look at her boyfriend with wide eyes. "You're an Occlumens?" she said in a voice barely higher than a whisper.

"Mother taught me last year, and I taught Theo." Draco said, brows furrowing in confusion, "Why?"

" _Narcissa_?" she asked, "How good are you?"

"As good as she made me," he said, "Hermione, you're acting odd, what's with you?"

A glassy look fell over her as she whipped her wand out fast as lightning, " _Legilimens_."

She was in his mind suddenly, surrounded by a dense fog, memories whipped about her like photographs, she allowed her hand to touch the surface of the nearest one, and instantly she was transported. It was a memory of the two of them; the one where they were sitting outside the owlery just before Dumbledore died.

All the other memories were similar, her sneaking into bed with him, her sitting across from him in the library, the two of them together as they played in the snow. Hermione tried as hard as she could but could not breach anymore memories than the ones he gave her.

"What the _bloody hel_ l, Hermione?" he exclaimed, wrenching himself away from her.

"Those are the memories you show the Dark Lord?" she asked, aghast.

"What are you trying to do? When did you learn that spell?" he said, seething in anger.

"Calm down, Draco." she said. "I think it's time we've had a talk with your mother."

* * *

 **a/n:** A quick chapter for you guys because my classes were canceled today! :) I've gotten a ton of good reviews the past couple of days and I just want to say thank you so much for the support! I think it'll be about five or so chapters until the end of this story, and I feel like a mum watching a child go off to college.


	51. Chapter 51 : At Long Last

**Chapter 51 : At Long Last**

When she finally came to them, it was well past midnight, and Draco and Hermione had been sitting in angry silence for more than two hours. He would glance at her every once in a while, and she would stare back calmly. Her ease with the situation put him in edge.

Narcissa Malfoy walked into the room as quiet as a mouse, and upon closing the door, cast a multitude of protection and silencing charms over the ones her son had already cast.

"Draco? What are you doing here?" she asked, evidently confused.

"Hell if I know." He snorted, crossing his arms in frustration. Narcissa sent a questioning glance in Hermione.

Hermione stepped forward, raising her wand at the woman, "What did I tell you the night that I was tortured?"

"That you hoped to become as good a wife to my son as I am to Lucius." Narcissa said immediately, watching the girl's hand drop.

"I just found out that Draco is an accomplished Occlumens." Hermione said, "And I think he deserves to know whatever it is we have to say."

Narcissa frowned, but nodded nonetheless as she took a seat beside her son, facing Hermione. "What is it you wanted to tell me earlier?"

Hermione bit her lip hesitantly before surging on, "I never said anything prior to this moment because I wasn't quite sure about your thoughts on the war, Narcissa, and whether or not the two of you could resist the Dark Lord. It's a secret I've kept for a great part of my life, and I sincerely hope, when I am done with my story, that you will not hate me for what I've done."

Narcissa frowned again, "What could you possibly have done to warrant our hatred?"

"You'll have to listen for yourselves," sighed Hermione, then, she turned to Draco, mustering all the courage she had to face him, "Draco, please know that whatever I say tonight does not change anything about me, or how I feel about you. I have never, for once in my life, lied about my feelings towards you, nor have I planned to deceive you in any way not directly involving my cause. "

His eyes flashed a dangerous shade of metal, before he faced his mother, who nodded encouragingly at Hermione to begin. She took a great breath, wondering if she was making the biggest mistake of her life.

"The first time I knew the Dark Lord would possibly rise again, I was twelve years old. I overheard three men conversing the night of the winter ball, pledging their sons' lives to their master's cause."

Her eyes bore into Draco's, who quickly averted his gaze, "I knew then that I would have done whatever it took to help my friends, whether they liked it or not. My family… we have never been as devout in our practices of blood purity, as you may know, Narcissa. Grandfather taught me early on why the Dark Lord had been wrong in his ways to try and eliminate all but us purebloods, and I understood this.

"In our third year at Hogwarts, I helped save Sirius Black." Hermione paused as Narcissa gasped in surprise, "His innocence was declared and he came to live with us. That night, when he was saved, Albus Dumbledore approached my grandfather. The headmaster had seen me cast a patronus, and was trying to get grandfather to allow me to be trained to become a spy.

Hermione waited for an cry of outrage, a hiss of betrayal, anything, from Draco, but he remained mute, looking as if he was trying hard not to say anything. She sighed heavily, but continued, "I agreed to his plan, knowing full well what I was getting myself into. The headmaster knew my reasons for agreeing, and assigned me under the tutelage of Severus Snape, whose secret, I hope the both of you shall also keep.

"I trained in Occlumency, Defence, and combat, which is why I'm more than adept at dueling. I have been passing information to Albus Dumbledore since I was indicted. I informed him of everything I knew, all of the plans I overheard, and participated in."

"You told him everything?" Draco finally said, sounding horrified. His face had become white as parchment. "He knew I was planning to kill him?"

"Yes," Hermione said, this time she was the one unable to meet his eyes, "Dumbledore was fully aware of our plans. The headmaster was already dying, even before you were tasked to kill him, Draco. He had been cursed at the start of the school year, to die a slow, painful death. I never knew his plan was to let Snape kill him. I was never important enough to share his plans.

"Now, I have only one connection to the opposing side, and that is to Harry Potter, though I have yet to come into contact with him. He is on a quest, you see, because we discovered how the Dark Lord was able to rise again. He created several dark artifacts called horcruxes, things that hold a little piece of his soul. And until all of them are destroyed, the Dark Lord lives on.

"I joined the Order of the Phoenix first and foremost to protect those I love, it has always been my focus, and will always be. But I have grown to support their cause, and if there will be a need to fight, I will fight. If whatever I have said tonight displeases you in any way, then I will – I will be forced to erase any evidence of my secret."

Her admission was met with a stunned silence. They sat like that, staring at each other for a while before Narcissa, forgetting all and everything having to do with poise, flung herself gracelessly at Hermione, wrapping her arms around the smaller girl until Hermione's head was firmly pressed against he woman's chest.

Hermione broke down then, the weight of it all suddenly crumbling down on her. "I'm sorry I kept it from you." She choked.

"Nonsense," said Narcissa tearfully, hugging her tighter, "you're such a brave girl, child, to go through everything the way you have. I have no idea how our family will ever be able to repay you."

"There's no need,"Hermione said, pulling away, "I have come to think of you as family, Narcissa, because actually, you are, however distantly related."

When Narcissa eased her hold on Hermione to return to her seat, the two witches turned to look at the young man who had yet to say a word since his outburst. Several emotions flashed across his eyes as they met Hermione's before he stood, coming to kneel at her feet and take her arms in his, holding them tightly.

"You're an idiot." he said harshly, "Such an idiot that I have no idea how you're smarter than me still. I have no clue why you're even in Slytherin, considering how reckless, how stupid, how utterly amazing you are."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears once more, her face colored in emotion.

"I'm so angry with you," he admitted, "For risking yourself for me and Theo, for giving up four years of your life for us. It wasn't your job to do that."

He silenced her protest with a glare, "It wasn't. But you did it nonetheless, and I couldn't be more grateful. I don't know where I'd be without you. And no matter how angry, or how utterly betrayed I am because you lied to me, you're still an amazing witch, and I can never stay mad at you for long. You have given me so much, Hermione, I hardly deserve it. Compared to you, I'm nothing but a cowardly son of a Death Eater."

This was where she drew the line. Hermione wrenched her hands from his hold, raising the, to cup his face, which was now a similar mess to hers. "You are so much more than that." She whispered. "I wouldn't have done this if you weren't. You are, and have always been, worth saving, Draco Malfoy, now more than ever."

"Marry me." He said, placing a hand over hers.

Hermione's heart stilled. The two of them barely heard the soft gasp that came from Narcissa, who was observing the scene unfolding in front of her with teary eyes.

"Marry me once all this is over and we have our lives to ourselves." He said more fiercely, "Marry me and let me give you the life you deserve, the years I took away from you. Marry me and I will give you the world."

Hermione's smile could have rivaled the sun.

"You don't need to ask."

She was out of her chair in a fraction of a second, and in Draco's arms the next, her lips captured in a sweet kiss that made her feel as like everything was right again. He peppered soft kisses all over her face, kissing away her tears and in their stead, leaving a faint blush of happiness.

"You never cease to amaze me." He whispered in her ear.

A happy sob from behind them broke their dreamy state, and the newly engaged couple turned to find Narcissa Malfoy in a puddle of tears, overcome by the sheer emotional onslaught placed upon her for the night. Draco chuckled at his mother, holding his fiancé closer to him.

"Well, mother?" he smirked, "Aren't you going to congratulate us?"

"Oh, hush, boy." Narcissa said, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. "I'll leave you two alone for now. We'll talk more tomorrow."

She stood from her seat, ready to leave.

"Narcissa," Hermione said, serious again, "Constant vigilance."

The woman nodded, "My mind is sealed, my dear."

"I'm sorry." she said again, burying her head in his chest as Narcissa closed the door behind her.

She felt Draco sigh, "It will take a while to wrap my head around it." He admitted, "But you're right. I was practically committing treason these past few months anyways, with helping the others. I know better now."

Hermione hummed in agreement. "I think I'll have to tell Theo."

"It would be best." Said Draco, "He never wanted this either."

"I know." She said, "Does it seem extremely odd? My being a spy and all?"

"Oddly, no." he said, "I always thought there was something off with the way that you suddenly became drawn to being a Death Eater. This explains it, I guess.

"Enough of that, for now." He said with finality, "I want to enjoy my first night with my fiancé."

Hermione laughed prettily at his smirk, "Are you absolutely sure you know what you're getting yourself into, Malfoy?"

"I am." He grinned, "But no matter how crazy you are, I want to be with you. This hasn't changed a thing. It's made me want you even more."

Hermione sighed happily, "I would have done anything for you, I still would." She said. "It isn't going to be easy, you know."

"Overthrowing all powerful Dark Lords never is." He said, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "But I refuse to live in a world where that man exists."

"I'm glad," Hermione said, seeing the determination in his face, "that you're not choosing to hide as many Slytherins would do."

"I done trying to emulate my father," Draco said, "I don't want to be a coward."

Hermione hugged him tighter, "You are as far from your far from your father as I am from Bellatrix."

"We'll have to avoid her as much as we can." Draco said.

"I can't do that. I think she knows something important. I won't be able to evade her, anyways she adores me."

"Yes, you're quite the perfect little Death Eater to that mad woman." He mused, "you've managed to fool us all."

Hermione smirked, pressing a kiss on his jaw, "Always the tone of surprise."

Draco growled, staring down heatedly at her, "I'll show you surprise." He said, shoving her down lightly, making Hermione fall to the bed with a gasp that quickly turned into a giggle.

* * *

Hermione strolled into the dining room early the next morning, her body clock refusing to allow her a morning in. She had debated going to breakfast or just staying in bed, the former winning her over with the premise of a cup of tea and toast.

"Hermione!" came a excited squeal as she stepped into the room. The familiar girlish, unhinged voice made her blood run cold, but she smiled happily anyway as her aunt skipped over to her with arms wide open. "Did you miss me?"

Hermione laughed, "Yes Aunty," she lied, returning the embrace, "everything's so boring without you."

"Maybe I should pay ickle-Hogwarts a visit, then? Spice things up a bit." Bellatrix suggested, making her niece smirk.

"I don't think Snape would allow you anywhere near his precious school, Aunty, you know how he is."

Bella sighed dramatically, "Yes, old bat face is quite the party pooper."

"Are you going to let me have my breakfast Aunt Bella? I hope you don't plan on starving me to death my first day back." She joked.

"I would never do such a thing to my favorite niece!" Bella exclaimed, steering her by the shoulders to sit next to Rabastan, and in front of Rodolphus. Bella took the seat to her right as Rabastan flashed a toothy smile her way, which made her stomp down a disgusted grimace.

"Morning, Hermione." Rabastan purred.

"Tut, tut, Rab," Bella scolded, "Hermione's a lady, not one of your back alley whores."

Rab scowled at his sister in law, turning back to his food in a huff.

"Besides, she has little Draco, doesn't she?" Bella cooed, "it wouldn't do to flirt with another man's girlfriend."

"Especially when she has become another man's fiancé." A voice from the door said, making them all jump in surprise.

Hermione stood at the sight of Draco leaning against the doorframe, watching the scene in front of him with a knowing grin. "Morning, love." He said impishly, making Hermione smile as she approached him. He pecked a kiss on her cheek, bringing his arm around her as he did so.

"Oh, goodie!" Bella exclaimed, clapping her hands, "A wedding!"

The Lestrange brothers muttered their congratulations, barely sending a glance at the couple who had taken their seats.

"There won't be a wedding any time soon, Aunt Bella," said Draco, "we're waiting until after graduation."

"Yes," Hermione agreed, "we want to finish our studies before jumping into marriage."

"Have you anything to do today, Aunt?" asked Draco, "It's quite early for all of you to be up."

Bella nodded intensely, making her hair fly all around her, "Yes, business for the Dark Lord," she said, smiling in adoration at the thought of her master, "He's trusted me to keep something very, very important, you know, and where else should I keep anything so valuable other than Gringott's?"

They heard Rodolphus let out a low growl, "Bella, you shouldn't go off spouting your task like that."

"Oh, stop, husband, it's only Draco and Hermione, they'll keep my secret." She said, "Won't you children?"

Hermione smiled, "Of course, Aunty. I must say, I'm rather jealous – the Dark Lord must trust you very much."

"I know!" exclaimed Bella excitedly.

A pop sounded next to Hermione, the noise signaling the arrival of a house elf.

"Hello, Pip," Hermione said, "what is it?"

"Mistress Narcissa would like to see Master Draco and Mistress Hermione in her study. Mistress Narcissa is wanting to discuss wedding plans."

Hermione and Draco rose promptly. "Forgive us for not being able to continue our meal, Aunt Bella."said Draco, "Mother is quite excited to get started on things."

Bella grinned, "Not at all, Draco, Cissy always did adore planning parties. Go on, then."

Draco extended an arm to his fiancé, who took it gratefully as he led her out the door.

"Well, a dose of Bella first thing in the morning sure does the trick for my nerves." Hermione said softly, making him chuckle.

"She isn't that bad when the Dark Lord isn't around." he pointed out.

"No," Hermione agreed, "but I can just feel the Dark Magic oozing out of her. I don't think even sticking her in a room with a bonfire of smudging sticks would cleanse her,"

"Bella's always been intense." Draco said thoughtfully, "Not unlike you, you know.

"I'm not intense." she huffed.

"You certainly aren't meek, love." he retorted, just as they came to a stop in front of a set of dark oak doors. He lofted the silver knocker, slamming it heavily on he wood. The door opened on thethird knock to reveal an emerald and dark wood decorated room, that somehow seemed welcoming despite all the green and black.

"Good morning, Mother." "Good morning, Narcissa." They chorused.

"Morning, children," Narcissa said, motioning for them to take a seat. The Malfoy matriarch sat on a loveseat in front of a coffee table bedecked with several trays of sandwiches and tea. The couple took their seats on he sofa in front of the woman, settling themselves nicely.

"I trust you both a had a good night's rest," she said, raising a dainty blonde brow at them.

The two had the decency to share a flushed look, looking sheepish under the woman's gaze. "Yes," coughed Draco, "I left promptly after we opened a bottle of champagne."

"Hmm," Narcissa said disbelievingly, "Nevermind that, though, we have bigger things to talk about,"

"I trust you aren't talking about wedding plans?" Hermione mused.

"That will be a talk for another day," Narcissa waved off, "What I want to know is what your plans are, my dear."

Hermione sighed, fiddling with a lock of her hair nervously, "I'm not quite sure myself, I have to admit." She said, "I have no idea where Potter is, or how far he's come in destroying the horcruxes. He doesn't have whatever Bellatrix has, that's for sure."

"It's the Cuo of Ravenclaw," Narcissa said thinly, "Bella was talking about it as I passed her room last night. I keep telling her to use silencing charms, but she won't listen."

Hermione nodded, storing the information away for later, "Anyway, I can't help Potter as of the moment, so I'm just helping in any way I can."

Narcissa nodded, "What of your plans if all this comes to a battle?"

"I plan to fight," Hermione said simply, "I've trained for years, I'm a decent duelist, I can probably hold my own against any of the Death Eaters."

"I won't let you fight alone," Draco said, and seeing her begin to protest, he silenced her with a glare, "If you think for one moment I'm going to let you prance off trying to kill Dark wizards, you're daft. Theo will probably want to fight, too."

Hermione sighed, "I was expecting that." She said, before turning to Narcissa, "You have to be as far from the fighting as you can be, if it does lead to that. Take Lucius and disappear somewhere until the fighting is finished. I'll send a message if it's safe for you to come out of hiding. Do you have a place to go to?"

Narcissa nodded, "We have a chateau in Cornwall that's unplottable and under the Fidelius Charm, I'm the Secret Keeper, so no one knows."

"That will do," Hermione said. "I'm very optimistic about the outcome of this war, so if Potter does succeed, leave the Aurors to me. Idiot know how much I can do for Lucius, but I'm sure the Ministry will let you off with probation, not to worry.

"Narcissa, you'll have to keep this charade up until the actual fighting starts, so I hope you can keep you walls up at all times. Also, I would be grateful if you could take better care of the prisoners. It would not bode well for the Ministry to find dead bodies under Malfoy Manor.

"I've been resisting the Dark Lord for more than twenty years," Narcissa said, "I think that will not be a problem. I shall also make sure the prisoners are dealt with greater care."

"Thank you," Hermione said, "if you hear anything else – anything about the Dark Lord's horcruxes, please find a way to tell me."

Narcissa nodded once more, "We'll have to be making plans for the wedding, dear, it would serve as an excuse for a more steady correspondence."

"Is it too naïve to hope that we won't actually be talking about wedding plans?" she winced at the older woman's pointed look, "I'll have to tell my mother and father about this."

"I sent an owl to your grandfather last night," Draco said, "he's been informed of our engagement. I'm merely waiting for his reply of assent."

"I'm sorry, you'll have to deal with the papers and everything through mail," Hermione said sheepishly.

"Nonsense," scoffed Draco, "besides, I'll still have to visit your paterfamilias once all this clears, even if it's just a show of good faith."

"Narcissa, I hope you're alright with me not setting a date for the wedding just yet."

"I understand, dear, no one wants to begin a marriage in the middle of a war." said the woman.

"I glad I can finally talk freely to someone other than Professor Snape," she admitted, "I've been going insane trying to keep it to myself."

"I'm just happy you trust us enough to share your secret with us, Hermione," smiled Narcissa. "I know Licius' current state has made that easier for you."

She sighed sadly, "I'm sorry, Narcissa, I really don't know how much I can do to help him."

"Lucius has been lost for a long time, child. I have known this for quite a while." Narcissa said, "He isn't the man he used to be, the Dark Lord saw to that."

Draco and Hermione shared a heavy look, before she chose to stand, "I think I'll send a letter to my mother now." Hermione said, leaving the mother and son alone to talk.

She found herself wandering the manor absent mindedly, grabbing a danish from the kitchens before heading back to her room. On the second landing, she was stopped by an odd feeling that crept from behind her. Instinctively, her walls came up as she turned to face the man she so desperately wanted to avoid. Voldemort stood before her in dark robes, his pale skin shining inhumanly in the daylight and his eyes boring into her soul. This time, she swore she felt him burrow himself into the recesses of her mind as they faced each other.

She offered a small smile, "Good morning, my Lord,"

"It seems to be quite an especially good morning for you, Miss Dagworth-Granger." the man hissed, "I believe congratulations are in order."

"Thank you, my Lord," she said, bowing her head slightly, "Once the date has been settled, you shall be receiving an invitation readily. Draco and I are quite excited to share our engagement to the world."

"As you should," said the wizard, "A match predestined by the fates, I must say. No purer blood could be found elsewhere."

Hermione nodded, "We are very lucky to have found each other," she said, "I was just about to compose a letter to my paterfamilias saying that I accepted Draco's offer."

"Ah, it's best that I do not keep you them, young one." he hissed, "I hope you extend Lord Black my congratulations."

"Thank you my Lord," Hermione said, bowing low before backing away,

She felt the man's eyes on her as she walked down the hall. Hermione forced herself to stand tall as she walked, refusing to shiver at the uneasy feeling his gaze left in her.


	52. Chapter 52 : The Manor

**Chapter 52 : The Manor**

She heard the door to her room open and close, signaling the entrance of her fiancé.

"Can you zip me up?" she said, her back towards him. His footsteps grew closer and she felt his breath on her the back of her neck as his cold hands ran up her back.

"Good morning to you too." he said, the smirk sounding in his voice.

Hermione turned to face him and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Morning." she said, trying to step around him to grab a hair band from her vanity. His hand wrapped around her wrist before she could, holding her still.

"Keep it like that," he grinned, twisting a stray curl around his finger. "Come on, it isn't a good time to be in the manor right now."

"What do you mean?" she asked, following him out into the hall.

"He's angry," Draco said in a clipped tone, "something happened last night and I heard him torture Rowle a few minutes ago."

Hermione bit her lip in worry as he led her out of the manor quickly, passing the greenhouse where she thought she saw Narcissa holding a pair of garden shears, past the maze and sprawling gardens, and into the line of trees that led to a rather dense forest at the edge of the property.

"Draco, where are we going?" she asked.

"Away," he said.

They kept walking until they reached a clearing, and the sight made Hermione gasp in surprise. The forest made way for a brook that gurgled happily along, leading downhill to who knows where. Patches of wild flowers grew here and there and she saw a telltale circle of mushrooms in the middle of a clump of lazy Susan's.

"Is that?"

"A fairy circle?" smirked Draco, who was watching her expression curiously, "Yeah, the houselves used to bring me here when I was younger. I liked to watch the pixies play. It seems like they were here last night."

"I would have thought that with the Dark Lord close by any other magical life would have fled by now." She thought aloud, edging closer to the circle. A small movement on one of the mushrooms made her gasp loudly. A pixie crept out from under the shroom, just about as big as her hand, her wings glinting brightly in the soft morning sun.

"Hello." Hermione smiled, kneeling slowly, her white skirt fanning out in the grass.

The pixie whirred about, flying until she stood on top of the mushroom, blinking up at her curiously.

"You're very pretty." Hermione said, making the little creature blush. It flew towards her than, looking as if she was gliding on air. She landed herself on Hermione's palm, her tiny feet tickling her.

The pixie then reached around for something tied to her back, and once it was freed, Hermione saw it for what it was. Another gasp was stolen from her lips as the creature placed the platinum ring in her open palm, flitted about until it brought its hands around a lock of her hair, tugging on it to make her turn around,

Hermione followed obediently until she came face to face with Draco, who was watching the scene play out with an amused smile.

The pixie flew to him, placing a soft kiss on his nose before flying away.

"What's this?" Hermione asked, brows furrowing in confusion, still a little breathless.

"Your engagement ring." He smirked, stepping closer to her. He picked up the ring, holding it up to her so that the light reflected off the stones. Her eyes widened as his words registered. It was simple, well as simple as Draco Malfoy could get. It was a dainty platinum band proudly displaying a large, princess cut blue diamond offset by a ring of smaller normal diamonds.

She looked up from his hand to meet her fiancé's eyes, which were scanning her face for any displeasure. Hermione smiled brilliantly at him and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. When she pulled back, his face was still set with doubt.

"You like it, then?" he asked, "I know it isn't as grand as my mother would have liked, she had a few rings brought back after Christmas and I was drown to the blue, I know it's your favorite color. This one belonged to her grandmother. I could take it back if you don't like it –"

"Draco," she shushed, "I love it."

He broke out into a charming smile, one of his rare moments that he portrayed exactly what he was feeling, and took her left hand in his, sliding the ring on her finger. It sparkled beautifully against her pale skin. He brought her hand to his lips, making her blush.

"I also chose it because it has protective wards ingrained into the platinum. It won't protect you from Unforgivables, but the Shield Charm helps quite a bit." he said. "I wanted to know that even if we're separated, I can still protect you."

She pulled him towards her into a tight embrace, "I love you."

"I love you too, Hermione." he said softly.

* * *

Come January, they found themselves, along with Theo, who was now aware of Hermione's secret, boarding the Hogwarts Express once more. Several eyes were on them as they passed through the train, trying to find a vacant carriage.

Hermione was suddenly pulled backwards by her hair, which she had taken to leaving down. A gasp of pain shot out of her mouth as her assailant yanked her back. Theo and Draco were quick to respond, turning with their wands out. The two boys were immediately faced with an opposing pair of wands.

Hermione pulled her hair back, wincing at the sharp pain that travelled to her head, turning to face her attacker. Ginny Weasley was glaring at her, eyes blazing in fury. Behind her were Lavender Brown and Seamus Finnegan, bearing similar looks of anger.

"What do you want, Weasley?" Hermione spat viciously.

"Where's Luna?" Weasley barked. "We know you took her."

"As you can see, Weasley, I don't have her," Hermione sneered, "Do you want me to turn out my pockets? I'm afraid I only have a few galleons on me, but you'll probably find that useful, wouldn't you?"

She growled at Hermione angrily, "Where's Luna?!"

"No amount of shrieking will make your odd little friend appear, Weasley." she said, rolling her eyes.

"You weren't on the train when we got to the station, and neither was Luna. We know you have her!" Brown yelled.

"What would we possibly want with Lovegood?" Theo asked, raising a brow.

"You're Death Eaters, you don't need a reason," the blonde hissed.

"What a horrible accusation!" Hermione scoffed, hand gripping her wand tightly.

"It isn't an accusation, it's a fact, and I'll prove it." Weasley growled, then she launched herself forward towards Hermione's left arm. She wrenched it away just in time, and shot a blasting spell at the redhead, causing her to go flying into her fellow Gryffindors, who helped her to her feet. Hermione cast a silent glamour charm on her arm, hoping that it would hold, pulled her sleeve down and showed it to them, thanking Morgana that it had worked.

"How's that for proof, Weasley?" she sneered. "There's nothing on my hand except my engagement ring."

The three Gryffindors narrowed their eyes in suspicion at the unmarked flesh, then exchanged looks with one another as if they hadn't realized it could have been an option. Hermione charmed an invisible barrier between them and her friends, preventing any more attacks.

"Get your facts straight before you go running your mouths." Draco spat, directing Hermione by the shoulders away from the Gryffindors.

When they were a safe distance away, he leaned into her and whispered, "How did you do that?"

"Glamour," she said flatly, "it's gone now. It never lasts more than a few moments."

"You're bloody lucky it didn't appear while you were holding your arm out." Theo said, glancing behind them. "They would have killed you in your sleep."

Hermione laughed arrogantly, "They could try."

* * *

Weeks passed and the Carrows' reign of terror only grew stronger. Hermione noticed that several of her housemates, namely Greg, Vince, and a sixth year named Aloysius Selwyn reveled in being able to cast Unforgivables without being punished. She knew that her two classmates were bullies, her fiancé had been a third of their trio for a good five years, but she had never expected that their mean streak would exceed more than harmless name calling or schoolboy brawls.

Draco and Theo told her it was because of their fathers' influence, that they knew nothing better. She bit her lip in contemplation at the explanation, already thinking of ways to change the two boys' minds, but Draco had pulled her aside and warned her not to do anything about it. He did not doubt that his former friends' allegiance was solely to the Dark Lord, even though they were not Marked, and would go tattling to their fathers the moment they knew something was afoot. Hermione sighed in defeat at his reasoning, heartbroken that she wouldn't be able to spare the two young men's futures.

Soon enough, it the months waxed and waned and it was once again time to board the train for Easter break. She was sitting propped on Draco's bed, watching him pack his things.

"Do you think he'll want us to do anything for him?" she wondered aloud, "We never really did anything last Christmas except loot potions supplies from the apothecary and ransack the ice cream parlor."

"I hope not," Draco snorted, "I don't fancy spending any more time working for him."

Hermione sighed, kicking herself up from the bed, "I know, love." she said, "I better go get my trunk."

"I'll meet you in the common room." he said, not pausing to look at her.

Hermione found Daphne sitting on her bed in their room when she got there. She was rather guilty that she hadn't been spending as much time with her best friend as she used to. Draco occupied most of her free time, and if they weren't together, she was in the library, trying to keep her mind off things. She had not received a reply from Potter to her whispered message informing him of a possibility of a horcruxe in Gringotts. She knew he had received it, but somehow, he had failed to respon. It worried her that he had ignored her message.

"Daphne?" she said softly upon entering.

The blonde witch turned to look at her, a sad smile etched on her face. Hermione moved to sit next to her friend, resting a hand on her back. "Daph, what's wrong?"

"Father says it's getting worse out there," she said, making Hermione tense, "A few of his employees have been detained by the Ministry, and he doesn't even know if they're alive anymore. He's worried that something might happen to me or Astoria."

Hermione patted her friend's back consolingly, unsure of what she should say to comfort the witch.

"I'm scared, Hermione," Daphne whispered, "I don't want to die yet."

"Shh," Hermione said, "Don't even think of such things. You won't die."

"But how do you know?" Daphne said.

"I know because you're a pureblood and a Slytherin." she said blankly, "The Dark Lord won't even think about harming you, even if your family's chosen to stay neutral."

She heard her friend sigh heavily before lifting a hand to inspect Hermione's ring. "I'm glad you have Draco," she said, "at least he'll be able to protect you."

Hermione turned her friend's hand over so that she was holding it tightly, "You're my best friend, Daph, I'd die before I'd let anything happen to you."

Daphne smiled at her before letting her hand go, "Come one," she said, standing up, "or else the train might leave us here."

* * *

"Mother?" Draco called as they entered Narcissa's sanctuary.

"By the hydrangeas, Draco." a soft voice rang through the leaves.

The couple made their way past the fountain towards the purple flowers, where Narcissa was glaring at the flowers as if they had done her a great wrong.

"Where is everyone?" Hermione asked.

"Bella is somewhere in the manor, as well as Pettigrew. Lucius is in his study." Narcissa said absently still glaring at the flowers.

"Father?" Draco asked, shocked, "Father's awake?"

Narcissa turned to her son abruptly, not realizing she had slipped, "Oh, Draco, I'm sorry I didn't write. He woke up two days ago. He's been keeping to himself lately, I'm afraid he doesn't know exactly what to make of things."

"Did you-"

"I haven't told him anything he doesn't need to know." Narcissa said sharply, "Although he offers his congratulations on your engagement."

Draco snorted, making Narcissa glare at him. "Sorry, mother."

"The Dark Lord isn't here?" Hermione asked, watching a bed of morning glories begin to bloom as the sun set.

"Nurmengard." the woman said flatly, "I'm not sure why, but I think he mentioned something about Grindlewald. He was talking to Severus about it earlier."

"Snape was here?" Draco asked.

"Yes, early this morning." Narcissa said, "I think you children should go rest for a moment before dinner, I have to deal with these."

"What's wrong with them?" her son asked.

"They should be indigo, not purple."

Draco turned to Hermione in disbelief, only to receive an amused giggle from her. "We'll see you in a bit, Narcissa. Come on, Draco."

She dragged him to her room where they fell onto the bed. Hermione rested her head on his chest while he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She let out a dainty yawn, making him grin.

"Tired?" he asked, holding her tighter.

She snuggled closer to him, nodding softly as her eyes fluttered shut.

"Sleep, Mione, I'll wake you when it's time to head downstairs." he said.

It turned out that the time to head down was sooner than they had both anticipated. About thirty minutes later, a harried looking Bellatrix burst through the door. She picked the two teens up by the collars and dragged them to standing position.

Hermione rose, awake and alert, checking if Draco was alright in the corner of her eye. "Aunt Bella, what's happening?" she asked.

"We have no time to waste!" Bella shrieked, "Follow me!"

Confused, they hurried after the black-clad witch until they reached the drawing room. Hermione bit down on her tongue to keep herself from gasping. She felt Draco's hand wrap around her wrist tightly as he too, realized who stood in front of them. Lucius and Narcissa were patiently waiting, standing in front of the group of strangers in the middle of the room.

"What is this?" Draco asked.

"They say they've got Potter!" Bella hissed, pushing them forward. Hermione watched Fenrir Greyback turn to grab a boy whose face was swollen beyond recognition by the robes and forced him to stand in front of them.

"Well?" rasped the werewolf. His hungry eyes landed on Hermione and she resisted the urge to hex him into next week as he licked his lips

"Well, Draco? Hermione?" she almost jumped at the sound of Lucius' voice, which was somewhat hoarse from disuse. "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"

Hermione steeled herself as she stepped forward to take a closer look. She had no doubt in her mind that this was Potter. Behind him, she saw Longbottom and Weasley who shared similar looks of terror on their faces as she and Draco approached their friend.

"I can't be sure." Draco stuttered, trying to see what Hermione was up to. She herself did not know what she was supposed to do. How does one get unstuck from sticky situations?

"Look at him carefully!" Lucius exclaimed excitedly.

Hermione was unsure where the man got his energy. She was certain she had never heard him sound so giddy in her life.

"Remember, children, if we are the ones to hand over Potter to the Dark Lord then everything will be forgiven –"

"He's too disfigured." Hermione snapped reflexively, "Even I can't know for sure. What did you even do to him?"

She stare the wolf in the eye, forcing herself not to back down from his snarling gaze.

"It looks like a Stinging Jinx to me." Lucius said, creeping closer. "There's something there, it could be the scar, but I can't – Draco, come here."

Draco saw the look of reluctance and resentment on Draco's face before he stepped towards his father, turning to look at Potter more closely.

" I don't know." Draco said, and he walked away toward Hermione, who had joined Narcissa by the fireplace.

"We had better be sure, Lucius." the martriarch said coolly "completely sure that it is the boy befor we summon the Dark Lord. If we are mistaken…"

"What about this one, then?" Greyback said gruffly, punching Longbottom forward. His cheek was cut and bleeding, and the rest of his face was black and blue, and his hair was matted, but he stood proudly, chin held high. "Says he's a Brown but his ring says Longbottom."

Hermione's eyes flitted to the young man's hand, where he wore an family insignia ring, much like the one Draco wore with the Malfoy coat of arms.

"Wait," Bellatrix said sharply, moving forward, "Yes – yes, he's supposed to be traveling with Potter and Weasley! Look, Mione, isn't it the Longbottom boy?"

Hermione squinted her eyes in mock concentration, "Maybe… I can't be too sure, I'm sorry Aunty, I haven't seen him in a year… he seems a bit too tall…"

"But then that's the Weasley boy!" shouted Lucius, pointing at Ronald, "It's them, Potter's friends – Draco, look at him, isn't he Arthur Weasley's son?"

"Yeah, he could be." said Draco, facing the fire.

"The Dark Lord must be informed!" Bella shrieked, dragging back her sleeve An argument ensued between Bella and Lucius, who had caught her arm midway, saying that he was the one who should be calling their master. Suddenly, Bellatrix stiffened, seeming to catch a look at something beyond Hermione's line of sight.

"Stop!" Bella wailed, "Do not touch it, we shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now!"

Hermione watched wide eyed as Bella strode towards the snatchers, eyes glinting a horrible shade of obsidian.

"What is that?" she hissed.

"Sword," grunted one of the Snatchers.

"Give it to me."

"It's not yours, miss,I found it, I reckon it's mine."

Bella was quicker than lightning: there was a bang and flash of red light and the Snatcher was on the floor, Stunned. The other Snatcher roared in anger, but Bella was too fast, she Stupefied him as well.

A clang of metal was heard and Bella brought the sword close to her face, as if inspecting it. The sword was handsomely made, Hermione knew this even from where she was standing, obviously goblin-made, and e hold was lined in rubies and made of gold.

"Where did you get this sword?" she whispered to Greyback, pulling his wand from him. "Where did you find it!? Snape sent it to my vault in Gringotts!"

"It was in their tent!" rasped Greyback. "Release me you crazy cow!"

"Draco, move this scum outside," Bella sneered, "if you can't finish them, stun them and leave them in the courtyard for me."

Bella began whispering incoherently to herself, eyes never settling on one place; flicking towards the sword, Pottr, and back again. Draco had begun levitating the Snatchers outside, looking sick to his stomach.

"Hermione!" Bella called her name abruptly, making her twitch, "Bring the prisoners to the cellar, but – leave Longbottom."

"No!" shouted Weasley and Potter.

Bellatrix slapped the redhead across the face, the sound ringing throughout the drawing room. "If he dies under questioning, I'll take you next, blood traitor. Take them downstairs, Hermione. Now."

Hermione spelled their chains to pull them forward, turning her back on the sight of Bellatrix pulling Longbottom by the hair. She felt the bitter taste of bile rise in her mouth, but she squashed it down, choosing instead to keep her eyes forward. She forced them down a steep flight of stairs, opening the heavy door to the dungeons befor pushing the four inside. A scream of agony was heard directly above them as Potter stepped inside.

"NEVILLE!" Weasley bellowed, trying to escape his chains. Hermione, surprised by his shout, shoved him further inside the dungeon, entering as well. She spelled the door shut and silenced the dark room before bathing it in light.

"If you want him to live, Weasley, shut up. Bellatrix tries harder when she has an audience." She warned.

"You bitch!" he growled, lunging at her.

"Ron Weasley!" a scolding voice sounded from behind the pillars of the dungeon. The captives and Hermione turned to find Luna Lovegood and Ollivander emerge from the darkness.

"Don't even think about hurting her, she's the reason why I'm still alive." Luna said.

Hermione inhaled sharply, glaring at Ollivander, "I erased your memory."

The old man shook his head, "She is the one who remembers."

"What the bloody hell is happening?" growled Potter as another scream ripped through the silence. "What are you talking about, Luna, she's a Death Eater!"

"I should be asking the questions here, Potter." Hermione growled, "Why haven't you been answering the coin? How much of an idiot can you be to come here?"

Potter sputtered uncomprehensibly, "What?"

"Nevermind that." she said quickly, "I can't get you out of here without alerting the others, there are anti-apparition wards around the Manor. You have to get out here, and fast. Pettigrew will most likely be here any second to guard the door. I'll spell it to unlock automatically after five minutes. After that, it's all on you. I think I can distract the others for a short time, but I'm not making any promises. Do you have a plan, Potter?"

Potter squared his shoulders to look at her, "Are there also wards against elf-magic?"

Against her will, she smirked, "You might just get out of this alive after all."

"Listen to me, Potter, the next one is in Gringotts, in Bellatrix's vault. You would know this is you checked the coin. When you get out of here, grab some of her hair and Polyjuice it to get to the vault."

She heard footsteps approaching down the steps then, and Hermione immediately turned to leave. "Remember, Potter, you have five minutes,"


	53. Chapter 53 : The Calends of April

**Chapter 53 : The Calends of April**

"Make sure they don't get out, Wormtail." Hermione sneered at the stout man who had appeared, "Or Bella will have your head."

"She wants the goblin upstairs." he choked out, looking fearful of the girl. "She wants to know if the sword is real."

Hermione sighed, as if annoyed, raised her wand to the door and opened it with a bang. Wordlessly, she summoned the goblin's chains forward, dragging the creature along.

As soon as she was out of the other Death Eater's sight, she said quietly, barely moving her lips, "Whatever she does, do not give her what she wants. If you value your life, you'll lie."

The goblin gave a sharp nod of his head, and she lead him back to where they came, trying hard to still her shaking hands.

A scream tore through the drawing room just as she stepped inside. Bellatrix was screeching loudly while the dagger in her hand glinted evilly in the light. Hermione thought she saw a jagged word etched into the Gryffindor's arm, which was bleeding profusely onto the marble floor, but she could not make out what it was. She moved to stand beside Draco, who was watching with a blank expression on his face.

"I brought the goblin, Aunt Bella." Hermione said, her voice ringing through the room.

Bellatrix looked up jerkily, before summoning the goblin painfully towards her. She grabbed him by the back of his head, forcing him to look at the golden sword in her hands. "Is it the true sword?" she demanded.

Hermione held her breath as she awaited his answer, "No," it said flatly, "it's a fake."

"Are you sure?" Bellatrix barked, shaking the sword.

"Yes." said the goblin with finality.

At once, relief broke across Bella's face, all the tension draining from her.

"Good," she said, kicking the goblin to the ground. "And now we call the Dark Lord!"

Before any of them could react, she pulled her sleeve up and touched her forefinger to the Dark Mark.

"Now, I think we can dispose of this little bit of trash." Bella said, sending a kick at Longbottom, who was unmoving on the cold floor.

"NOOO!" a flash of red hair and a glint of glasses rushed into the drawing roomthey looked around in various states of shock as their wand hands begun to rise at the intrusion.

"Expelliarmus!" roared Weasley, sending Bella's wand to the air o lay to be caught by Potter. Hermione cast a silent Stunning spell at Lucius, who had moved to curse Potter just as she was hit by an Immobilizing Jinx. She fell to the floor in a heap, eyes surveying the scene in front of her. Draco had tried to quickly relief the spell off her, but his wand too, was cursed from him.

"STOP OR HE DIES!"

Hermione had a good view of the room from where she had fallen to the floor, and her vision was not blocked as Bella grabbed hold of Longbottom, still unconscious, holding a knife to his throat.

"Drop your wands," she whispered, "Drop them!"

Immediately, the wands the two boys had stolen dropped to the floor.

"Good!" she leered, "Draco, pick them up! The Dark Lord is coming!"

Hermione felt a Finite wash over her, and her frozen limbs were suddenly free. Hoisting herself up, she gripped her wand tightly, praying to Merlin that Potter had come up with a decent plan. Bellatrix was just about to open her mouth to bark out an order, but a jingling noise from over their heads distracted her.

All their eyes trained towards the ceiling, just in time to see the crystal chandelier above Bella tremble dangerously, and it began to fall. The Dark witch threw herself out of the way, just as it exploded in a rain of crystals and chains, falling on top of the goblin, who was still holding the sword and Longbottom.

Hermione felt a piece of crystal slash her left cheek, making her turn her head to avoid any more shards. Draco, however, was not as lucky. He was clutching his face in pain, blood dripping from his hands as he tried to cover it.

The two Gryffindor boys were helping Longbottom out of the wreckage while Hermione tried to pry Draco's hands from himself. Potter dove across the floor, scooping up the wands into his hand.

As Narcissa helped Hermione drag her fiancé out of the way to keep him and her future daughter in law from further harm, Bellatrix rushed to her feet, brandishing her knife.

"Dobby!" Narcissa shrieked, pointing her wand at the doorway, her voice dripping with faux fury, "You dropped the chandelier?!"

The tiny elf trotted into the room, pointing his shaky finger at his former Mistress. Hermione assumed that this was the elf that Draco had said they lost to Potter back in their second year.

"You must not hurt Harry Potter!" it squeaked.

"Kill him, Cissy!" Bella cried, but there was another loud crash and Narcissa's wand flew out of her hand across the room.

Dobby suddenly appeared on top of the wreckage of the broken chandelier holding on to the three Gryffindors and the goblin. They spun to Disapparate with a loud crack, leaving behind the stunned faces of four Death Eaters. Hermione saw a flash of silver fly through the air just as they disappeared, and she realized that Bellatrix has thrown her knife in a last ditch attempt.

"NO!" Bella screamed.

Hermione could not stop herself from shaking, she was still holding on to Draco. Narcissa turned to her with a sharp look in her eyes.

"Constant vigilance." The woman said under her breath, just as a swirling figure appeared in the middle of he wrecked room.

Lord Voldemort stood before them all, scarlet eyes blazing as he took in the sight in front of him. Bellatrix was sobbing hysterically at his feet, repeatedly apologizing to her master. Hermione gripped Draco's arm tightly, willing him to be strong enough as she blocked her mind.

"What happened here?" the Dark Lord hissed darkly.

"My Lord," Bella sobbed, "My Lord forgive me! He got away! Forgive me, forgive me."

"Crucio!" Voldemort screamed, eliciting agonized cries from the witch at his feet. "STAND, BELLATRIX!"

After a moment, the woman stumbled to her feet, tears trailing down her face as she stood before her master.

"Legilimens!"

It was silent for a few moments before the Dark Lord roared in unbridled fury. Dark magic cackled at his finger tips, and Hermione only had time to gasp as she was struck down by the strongest Torture Curse she had ever felt.

* * *

Hermione brushed a lock of Draco's hair away from his face, noting that the scars from his injuries were beginning to fade. She shuddered involuntary at the thought of the night, her knees buckling.

He held her up, keeping a strong arm around her waist. "Tell me they're at least getting better." he whispered.

"As better as yours." she muttered under her breath.

He sighed in frustration, knowing full well that the effects of the curse on them were not going away any time soon. "I'm glad we're leaving."

Hermione snorted indelicately, "We're merely going back to the lesser evil."

"Anywhere is better than here." Draco said, "If I could get mother out of here I would."

"I worry for Narcissa, but she's a strong witch. I have no doubt in my mind she can hold her own." Hermione said. "Now come, the train's about to pull in."

The couple entered the Hogwarts Express with similar blank looks imprinted on their faces, ignoring the scathing glares sent their way from students and their families, as well as the hateful whispers that carried across the bustle of the station.

"Is it just me, or does this school year seem to be taking an eternity?" Theo asked as they approached the Slytherin compartment.

"It's definitely not just you." Hermione muttered.

"I bet you're just itching for summer to begin, aren't you Hermione?" Pansy asked, her voice tinged with jealousy, "Isn't your wedding planned for June?"

Hermione couldn't even relish in the other girl's anguish, she merely sway armed off her features in a blank expression. "We're not quite sure yet. Hopefully, yes, it will be a summer wedding, but certain things might come up to change that."

Draco gently placed a hand over hers, which she entwined her fingers in gratefully.

"What ever do you mean?" Pansy queried, practically jumping up at the possibility of the wedding not pushing through.

"Well, many of my relatives are from the continent, you know," Hermione said, mind whirring to make a plausible excuse, "We're still trying to figure out where the wedding would be better set."

Hermione willed Pansy to believe the lie. It was out of the question to tell the witch that there was nothing she wanted less than to get married under the Dark Lord's reign. The poor excuse for a man would be breathing down her and Draco's neck for the rest of their lives happened, and she would sooner off herself than do that.

"But Malfoy Manor is such a beautiful place to get married… all that space would easily fit two hundred!" Pansy said, ignoring the icy tone in the other girl's voice.

"Yes, but Paris in the summer is just divine." Hermione said, losing patience, "And Draco and I want the wedding to be quite exclusive. Only our _closest_ friends and family will be invited. I really don't think the guest list will be more than a hundred, right, darling?"

She paused for only a moment to look at Draco, who was smiling at her indulgently, "Mother always said that a wedding is a special event, one that should only be shared with the people we trust most, those that actually matter."

Hermione watched as the pug faced witch visibly shrank at the hostile look she was receiving before plastering a sweet smile on her face.

"I completely understand." She said, her eye twitching.

"I'm sure you do, Pansy." Hermione sniffed, "Oh, Daphne, Narcissa told me to tell you not to plan your robes for maid of honor, all right? She says that it will be taken care of, I think she might have even mentioned loaning you one of her mother's emerald necklaces."

The angry flush on Pansy's cheeks Hermione saw out of the corner of her eye filled her with vindication that momentarily allowed her to forget about everything else.

* * *

Hermione spelled herself invisible as soon as she left the Slytherin commons for the night. Theo and Draco would soon be doing the same, each doing their own tasks, Theo going to the Hospital Wing to deposit a few potions for Poppy, and Draco to the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw dorms respectively, to help the two third years the Carrows had taken to playing with during their Defense class.

She made her way up the stairs from the dungeons, carefully avoiding Mrs Norris, who was easily distracted with one of Crookshank's cat treats, to the Seventh Floor. She faced the door in front of The tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, drew out a large drawstring bag from her satchel and hung it on the door knob. Her knuckles rapped the wood two times before the door swung open quicker than she expected.

Hermione jumped out of the way, only to be caught on the ankle by the corner of the door. She bit her lip to suppress her cry of pain, but was unable to stop herself from toppling over on her bum with a thud. Dust from the floor puffed up from her landing and suddenly she felt herself being wrapped by invisible bindings.

" _Finite Incantatem_." Seamus Finnegan said, his tall figure looming over her as she came into view.

"Let me go!" she hissed, struggling with her bindings.

Finnegan stared at her in shock, " _Dagworth_? You're the one that's been helping us?"

"I won't be any longer if you don't let me the fuck go, Finnegan." she spat.

The Gryffindor raised his wand to release her from the spell. She took his outstretched hand to stand, which he had offered after a moment of hesitation. Pride bruised, she huffed in indignation and smoothed her robes.

"If you want your supply of potions and balms to keep coming, Finnegan, you'll keep quiet." She warned, "I can't help you if I'm chained by my ankles in the dungeons because you didn't know any better to keep you mouth shut."

With that, she raised her wand upon herself and once again disappeared from view. Before she could leave, however, Finnegan spoke.

"Thank you, Hermione." he said, his voice clear. "We owe you."

' _More than you know, Finnegan.'_ she thought to herself.

 **a/n :** hullo! I'm so so so sorry I haven't updated in a month! I've been so incredibly busy and the motivation to finish this story just isn't there, as you can see from the shitty excuse of a chapter. I will try to do better tho! I promise to work on this the first chance I get! I think it's only about Rene or so chapters until the end :)


	54. Chapter 54 : Ready the Troops

**Chapter 54 : Ready the Troops**

The news came in the form of the Daily Prophet dropping onto the Slytherin table at lunch for an emergency edition and the Great Hall erupting in hushed whispers that sounded like a horde of bees. Draco's grip on her hand under the table tightened as he read over her shoulder the headline.

"The tossers actually did it." He said in a voice that barely contained his awe.

Hermione raised her gaze to Theo's across the table, knowing that he was thinking the exact same thing as she was. "It's happening soon." she whispered, cautious to keep her voice so low that only the three of them could hear.

"When?" asked Theo, setting the paper down, a frown marring his face.

 _"Tonight."_

Hermione tensed at the sound of her fiancé's voice sounding so hollow. Both she and Theo looked sharply at him and saw that he had opened a dark green envelope in his hands. She snatched it out of his hands and saw that it was only the one word that he had uttered written on the piece of parchment inside the envelope. It was in Narcissa's familiar script, written hurriedly and unsigned. She folded the paper and faked stowing it in her pockets, sureptitiously turning it to ash once it was out of sight.

Hermione risked a glance at Professor Snape, who, expecting her to do so, was already looking at her. He nodded once, as if he knew just what was written on the letter Draco had just opened. Down the staff table, the Carrows were seething in anger. She was somewhat relieved that they did not have Dark Arts scheduled for that day, but also terrified for the students who did.

"He won't call us back, I don't think." she said, voicing her thoughts, "Once the fighting starts, he'll expect us to join him."

"What's the plan?" Draco asked.

"We're skivving off for the rest of the day." she said, the gears turning in her head.

"You? Skive classes?" Theo scoffed.

"Yes, well, this is quite a bit more important than classes, Theodore." Hermione said, while scanning the Gryffindor table. She noticed that none of them in her year or the year below her were seated, most likely in the Room of Requirement, and that a second year had gotten up to run out inconspicuously.

"After Draco and I leave, Theo, wait a bit before following. We'll wait for you in front of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy on the seventh floor." she whispered.

Theo nodded, going back to his lunch.

"Won't they notice us leaving?" Draco asked worriedly.

Hermione smirked at him devilishly before leaning towards him. He snaked his arm around her waist almost out of habit, "Oh, I'm counting on it, Draco, darling." she whispered, pressing a kiss on his lips. His eyes widened a fraction in surprise before realizing her plan and easing into the kiss.

"Get a room!" Blaise teased loudly, making the other Slytherins chuckle.

"Planning on it, Zabini." Draco smirked, making Hermione flush. She took his offered hand and allowed him to help her up, ignoring the wolf whistles that sounded from their housemates.

"That was devious of you." Draco said, smirking at her once they were out of earshot.

"Don't pretend like you didn't like it." she scoffed.

"Very much so, Hermione, darling," he purred, hand slithering around her waist again. "Wouldn't mind doing it again, at all, really."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him but raised her hand to around his neck anyway. He leaned down to kiss her, still smirking, but before he could she raised her hand and slapped the back of his head.

"Do get your head out of your pants, darling, there's quite a large chance that we're going to die tonight." she said.

Draco released her, grumbling as he rubbed his head, "All the more reason to, then."

Hermione's tense expression softened a bit at that, having forgotten that. She raised herself on her tiptoes, intending for it just to be a peck. But Draco, ever the Slytherin, smirked against her lips and pulled her deeper.

That was how Theo found them moments later, wrapped in each other's embrace, ties askew and hair in disarray.

"Should I find a broom closet for you, then?" Theo asked in amusement, making the both of them jump in surprise.

Hermione recovered first, clearing her throat "Erm, we got a bit distracted."

"Yes, because snagging is so much more important that whatever else is going on." Theo smirked.

"You know – ah!" Hermione hissed painfully, grabbing at her neck which had began to burn.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, eyes wide with worry.

Hermione reached for the chain around her neck, pulling he medallion out.

Hogwarts bound.

"Potter's coming." she grinned, "Let's go."

"You know, it isn't really appropriate to be so happy with a man who's not your betrothed." Draco noted following her at a quick pace.m

"I still love you even if you're not the Chosen One, Drakey." Theo teased.

"Shut it, Nott." Draco retorted.

Once they were in front of the tapestry, Hermione paced in front of the door three times, watching it shift. Just when she was about to reach for the handle Draco stopped her. Amber eyes met silver as they flashed protectively at her.

"Let me go first." he said. She opened her mouth to protest and was immediately silenced, "I know you're strong enough, I'm not doubting you, Mione, just let me do this."

She thought better of fighting and let him step in front of her, watching as he swung the door open and all here of them were faced with several wand points glowing menacingly at them.

"Would you mind letting your wands down?" Hermione asked in the sweetest tone she could muster.

"Why the bloody hell would we do that, snake?" asked Ernie Macmillan, who was sporting a black eye.

"Do it." came the voice of Seamus Finnegan, who limped forward, parting the crowd of students.

"Come off it, Finnegan, did you hit your head or something?" barked Ernie.

"They're the ones who've been helping us with the potions." Seamus admitted.

The room unexpectedly erupted in disbelieving laughter.

"What are you on, mate?" Justin Finch-Fletchley howled, "Thought we were all out of Firewhiskey."

"Quiet, you lot." Seamus shouted, then turned to face the three snakes, "What are you doing here?"

"Did you see the paper, Finnegan?" she queried.

"Aye, Dennis came up to give it to us." he said, "What about it?"

"He's on the way here." Hermione said.

"Harry? Harry's coming here?" Ginny Weasley asked, still pointing her wand at the witch.

"Yes, Weaslette, your boyfriend is making his way to Hogwarts right now." Draco snorted, rolling his eyes.

"How do you know that?" she said, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"He told me." Hermione shrugged. Almost immediately, chaos ensued. Shouts were directed at them, accusing them of lying, saying it was a trap, shouting that they were nothing but dirty Death Eaters.

"QUIET!" Finnegan shouted over all the noise. "Let her speak."

Hermione breathed in shakily, "We are Death Eaters."

More shouting enveloped the room. "SHUT UP BEFORE I SILENCE YA BLEEDING FECKERS!" Seamus roared.

"Draco and Theo have defected, I am a spy. I've been working undercover for the Order for years." She unchained her medallon from her neck and threw it at Weaslette, "That's how Potter contacts me."

"What are you doing here, then?" Weaslette asked.

"We've come to warn you." Hermione said, "The Dark Lord plans on attacking Hogwarts tonight."

Crazed panic engulfed the room at her words and it took Seamus a while longer to get them to settle down. "What's your plan?" he asked finally.

"I can't do anything about it without Potter here." she admitted. "The best we can do is prepare for battle."

"Battle?" Ernie protested, "Half of us are barely conscious."

Hermione looked at Seamus in confusion, " I thought I gave you enough to last for months?"

"Yeah, well, the Carrows are wankers." he huffed.

"What's the time?" she asked Draco, who pulled out his pocket watch.

"Half past one.." he said, looking at her in confusion. "Why?"

"Potter broke out of Gringotts at around eleven this morning on the back of a dragon, if that's true, then he'll be here in about an hour. We have that long to heal them before Potter gets here. The Dark Lord probably won't strike until nightfall, so we have the rest of the afternoon to prepare.

"Are you in contact with any of the teachers?" she asked Seamus.

"We can send Dennis to McGonagall, he's small enough not to be noticed." Seamus said.

"That will have to do." she sighed, turning to the boy, "You need to tell McGonagall to strengthen the castle wards without the Carrows noticing, and to be ready to evacuate the younger students any time today."

She stopped the boy from scurrying away to do his job with a hand on his shoulder, casting a silencing charm on his feet and a Disillusionment charm over him. "Go."

"Gather your wounded." she instructed Seamus, "The three of us know how to heal and I have a few potions with me."

The shuffling of feet and moving of bodies filled the space as several students moved towards the Slytherins warily. Seamus was up first being nearest.

"Draco, Theo, help with the others, please." she asked, and reached into her robes, which she had cast an extension charm on, "Here are numbing potions, blood replenishers, and Calming Draughts. I'm sure if you ask the room for bandages it'll supply them."

The two boys went to work immediately, seeing to a pair of Hufflepuffs.

"Why do you still have a limp?" she asked, "This should have gone away weeks ago."

"Dinnae," he shrugged, "Never healed right."

"The bone probably hasn't set properly." she muttered to herself, "I'll have to break it again, Finnegan, so that I can give you a double dose of Bone Mending potion."

He grimaced at the thought before nodding, "I've come this far, haven't I? Do yer worst then, snake."

"You might want to hold on to something, Gryff."

* * *

 **a/n:** A thousand apologies for my prolonged absence! I've been working on a six part story both Theo and Hermione and I got side tracked a bit. Forgive me for the short chapter! See you in battle!


	55. Chapter 55 : Courronne Sombre

**Chapter 55 : Courronne Sombre**

Hermione let out a shriek of alarm when once again the medallon against the her chest started heating up. Draco was by her side in an instant, forgetting the Ravenclaw he had been tending to. It had been about an hour since they had started healing and almost everyone was as good as new. Even Seamus' broken leg was working in top shape already.

"What is it?" Draco asked, alert and wand in his hand.

"Ease up, love." Hermione said, tugging out the chain again. "It's Potter again."

Even if she had said it in a relatively low voice, the name of the Chose One seemed to have a sound magnifying charm on it because the effect on the room was astounding. Everyone in her vicinity turned to look at her, holding a bated breath. She turned the medallon over and read the words with a stoic expression on her face.

"They're at the Hog's Head." she announced. "They triggered a Caterwaling Charm and Aberforth's hiding them for now."

"The gods must be looking down on us, then," Seamus said with a grin, "We've been buying food through The Hog for months. There's a secret passage way through here."

"Where is it? I can go fetch them." she said, looking around the room.

"I'll go with you." Draco said immediately, helping her to her feet.

"No." she said firmly, "You need to finish up with Theo, Seamus can take me."

Her fiancé shot her a look that disagreed with her entire plan and she breathed out an indignant huff.

"I'll take her, mate, it'll be a quick in an out either way, no more than five minutes I reckon." Seamus chirped.

Hermione moved to follow the Irishman but a firm hand around her wrist held her back. "Draco, I'll be fine." She said exasperated.

The dark flash in his grey eyes silenced her immediately, "You don't know that," he hissed, "This is a bloody war, Hermione, none of us are _fine_."

"I'll be back before you know it, Draco." she said, trying to sooth him, "I promise."

He let her go reluctantly, "If you aren't back in five minutes I'm coming after you."

"Yes, yes, and you'll torch the place down if I'm hurt." she said, rolling her eyes. "See you, love."

He nodded stiffly at her, watching her disappear after Seamus behind a portrait.

* * *

"Wotcher, Harry." Seamus said in front of her once the portrait swung open. Hermione rolled her eyes at the Gryffindor's easy tone.

Three separate yells of delight sounded and Seaumus was hastily pulled into three separate hugs.

"Seamus!" came Longbottom's voice, "What are you-"

"She told us you were coming, mate, the others didn't believe it at first, but I knew she wasn't lyin' from the moment she –"

"Who, Seamus?" asked Weasley.

"Hermione, of course." she cringed at the familiar way he said her name.

"You – you actually believe her?" Weasley sputtered amidst Potter and Longbottom's yells of "I told you so!"

"You would too, Ron, if you saw everything she's been doing for us." Said Seamus gratefully.

"But that Slytherin bint-"

"I'd be quite careful of the next words that come out of your mouth, Weasel." Hermione said quellingly, coming out of the shadows behind Seamus, "Afterall, you wouldn't be here without me."

She ignored the wand tip pointed at her face threateningly, merely raising an eyebrow at the Weasel's flushed face.

"Er, I think we better go," Seamus intervened, "Malfoy was a bit skittish at letting Hermione go and I really don't fancy being at the end of _his_ wand."

"I agree, there really isn't much time to waste." Potter said grimly.

"Have you got them all, then?" Hermione asked, pushing aside Weasley's wand.

"No." Potter said, "I think we should talk about this back at the castle."

"Right," Hermione agreed, feeling a sense of dread in knowing that the Dark Lord's immortality was still intact. "we should be quick, I don't know what time He plans on starting. Narcissa's message only said tonight."

" _Narcissa_?" asked a baffled Longbottom, "And what's happening tonight, Granger?"

"Narcissa Malfoy. She's been passing me information since April. And the Dark Lord's planning on raiding Hogwarts tonight. It's been in his plans for a long time, we just didn't know when it would happen." She said as they began walking.

"Just how many of you are turncoats, then?" asked Potter.

"Originally it was just me. Narcissa, Draco, and Theo have joined me." she said. "They didn't know I was a spy until very lately either."

"So you _are_ a spy, then?" Potter asked, "You're working for the Order?"

"Yes, ever since fourth year." she informed the four boys.

"So you're not really a Death Eater, then?" asked Longbottom.

"Oh, I'm a Death Eater," Hermione said bitterly, "I have the brand to prove it. Dumbledore asked me to do whatever necessary to infiltrate the Dark Lord's ranks and earn his trust. I'm not innocent, Longbottom, I've done some terrible things."

"But not really though, right?" Longbottom asked hopefully.

Hermione sighed heavily, "You can't say no to the Dark Lord, Longbottom, unless you have a death wish."

The portrait door opened before anyone else could comment and Hermione was immediately faced with Draco who looked ready to open the door himself. She was pulled down a bit roughly into his arms, but she allowed him to pull her against his side, his right arm snaking around her waist and keeping her there pushed against him.

"Told you I'd be back soon." she smirked.

"Not soon enough." Draco said, eyes narrowed at the three newcomers.

They watched as the room exploded in cheers at the sight of the three boys. The looks of surprise on their faces should have been framed as they took in the hangings on the wall and the hammocks tied around columns and the familiar faces that rushed to greet them upon their arrival.

"Where are we?" Potter asked once the chaos had been reigned in by Seamus.

"The Room of Requirement, Potter! Ginny found it when she was running away from the Carrow woman –"

"Ginny?" Potter asked with wide eyes, "She's still here?"

"Yep, almost didn't come back after Easter though." Seamus said just as the red head in question broke through the crowd and flung herself into Potter's arms. However, their reunion was cut short when Potter's knees buckled. Thankfully, both his friends were there to steady him.

"What was that, Potter?" Draco said with narrowed eyes at the way he was clutching his scar. Potter ignored him, choosing to look behind him to Weasley and Longbottom.

"We're running out of time." He said. "We need to get going."

"What are we going to do then, Harry?" Seamus asked, "What's the plan?"

"Plan?" Potter repeated, "Well- there's something we – Ron, Neville and I have got to do, and then we'll get out of here."

"What do you mean get out of here?" Seamus asked.

We haven't come back to stay," said Harry, rubbing his scar, trying to soothe the pain. "There's something important we need to do —"

"What is it?"

"I — I can't tell you."

There was a ripple of muttering at this, and Seamus' eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Why can't you tell us? It's something to do with fighting YouKnow-Who, right?"

"Well, yeah —"

"Then we'll help you."

The other occupants of the room nodded – some showed their enthusiasm and willingness by rising from the chairs they had been seating on.

You don't understand." Harry seemed to have said that a lot in the last few hours. "We — we can't tell you. We've got to do it — alone."

"Why?" asked Seamus.

"Dumbledore left the three of us a job," he said carefully, "and we weren't supposed to tell — I mean, he wanted us to do it, just the three of us."

"Get over yourself, Potter." Draco snorted, earning a swat from Hermione. "What? He's being a prat."

She sighed reluctantly, "He's right, Potter. Just out with it. Everyone in this room wants to help you."

"Look," Potter began, only to be interrupted by the tunnel door that had just opened behind him.

"We got your message, Seamus! Hello you three, I thought you must be here!"

It was Luna and Dean. Seamus gave a great roar of delight and ran to hug his best friend.

"Luna," said Harry distractedly, "what are you doing here? How did you — ?"

"I sent for her." Seamus admitted, "Sent a message on the radio, promised Fred and Gearge I'd let them know."

There was another noise behind them and the Weasley twins, followed closely by Lee Jordan and Cho Chang entered the room.

"So what's the plan, Harry?" said one Weasley twin, grinning as if they weren't about to risk their lives in battle.

"There isn't one," said Potter, looking a bit disoriented.

"Just going to make it up as we go along, are we? My favorite kind," said the other twin.

"You've got to stop this!" Harry told Seamus. "What did you call them all back for? This is insane —"

"You're being unreasonable, Potter." Hermione said, rolling her eyes, "You've got to find it soon, and the more people looking, the quicker it'll be found."

"You know what's going on?" Dean asked, a bit out of the loop.

"Yes, well that is my job description you know, being a spy and everything." she snarked.

"I knew it!" shouted Fred triumphantly, turning to Lee, "Told you she wasn't a rotten snake."

Jordan grumbled and dug his pockets for a galleon that he deposited begrudgingly jnto Weasley's outstretched hand.

"Getting to the point, though, Potter," Hermione said exasperated, "You don't have to tell them what it is, just what it looks like."

Potter seemed to mull over it with his two friends before steeling himself with a decision. "Okay," he called out to the room, "There's something we need to find, Something — something that'll help us overthrow You-Know-Who. It's here at Hogwarts, but we don't know where. It might have belonged to Ravenclaw. Has anyone heard of an object like that? Has anyone ever come across something with her eagle on it, for instance?"

"Well, there's her lost diadem. I told you about it, remember, Harry? The lost diadem of Ravenclaw? Daddy's trying to duplicate it." Luna Lovegood said dreamily.

"Yeah, but the lost diadem," said Michael Corner, rolling his eyes, "is _lost_ , Luna. That's sort of the point."

"Sorry, but what is a diadem?" asked Ron Weasley.

"It's a kind of crown," said Terry Boot. "Ravenclaw's was supposed to have magical properties, enhance the wisdom of the wearer."

"Yes, Daddy's Wrackspurt siphons —"

Potter cut across Luna. "And none of you have ever seen anything that looks like it?"

The Ravenclaws shook their heads sadly, making the frown on Potter's face deepen.

"If you'd like to see what the diadem's supposed to look like, I could take you up to our common room and show you, Harry? Ravenclaw's wearing it in her statue." Lovegood piped up again.

Potter hissed in pain suddenly, clutching at his scar. He muttered something to Weasley and Longbottom before turning back to the crowd.

"Listen, I know it's not much of a lead, but I'm going to go and look at this statue, at least find out what the diadem looks like." Potter said, moving forward with a look to Lovegood.

"You don't need to do that, Potter." Hermione said, "We can see it right now it Lovegood wouldn't mind."

The entire room turned to look at her oddly.

"How?" Longbottom asked.

"Legilimency." she said seriously.

"What?" Potter asked in shock, "But you can't possibly know how –"

"I think it's high time you've stopped underestimating me, isn't it, Potter?" she said flatly, "I've trained in Occlumency and Legilemency for years. I can see the image from Lovegood's head if she's willing."

"Go on then." Luna said readily, stepping forward.

"I need you to be sure, Luna." Hermione said, boring her eyes into the blonde's.

"You saved my life. I trust you." she said.

"Alright, then I need you to think about the last time you saw the diadem, please." Hermione said, brandishing her wand.

Luna nodded.

Hermione craned her head to look at her fiancé. "I need you to let me out of your death grip, love." she said, sounding bemused.

Draco glared at her in annoyance before hesistantly easing his hands away from her.

She steadied her breath and bore her eyes into the clouded blue of the Ravenclaw's.

" _Legilimens_!"

Luna Lovegood's brain was just as she had expected – severely cluttered and oddly colorful, but she didn't exactly have the time to roam around the Ravenclaws mind so she delved into the first memory presented to her and was immediately brought into the Ravenclaw common room.

The diadem was there, on top of Rowena Ravenclaw's statue, albeit made of stone, but a diadem none the less, adorned with what would have been sapphire gems and –

She withdrew from the girl's mind with a gasp, surprising the silent crowd that had been watching.

"What is it?" Potter asked.

"I-I'm not sure." she said, and turned to Draco.

"Open your mind," she asked, "I need to show you something. Tell me if I'm wrong."

Draco nodded, a little confused, "I'm ready."

" _Legilimens_."

Hermione entered into the now familiar expanse of Draco's mind, but instead of pulling out a memory, she projected the one she had just seen from Lovegood's, showing the replica of the diadem.

"Salazar's balls." Draco whispered as she left his mind, confirming her suspicions.

"What?" Potter demanded, "What is it?"

"We know where it is, Potter." Draco said, still a little dumbfounded.

"Well? Let's go!"

Potter rushed out of the room before they could stop him, despite their shouts for him to stop, he was out of the door in an instant.

"There you bloody are, Potter!" came a shout, and then Theo, Hermione, and Draco all clutched their left forearms at once, the searing burn of their master being called shooting through their body. A blast came from outside the room and everyone rushed out to see Amycus Carrow sprawled on the floor, Stunned.

"Potter! He's called him!" Theo shouted, "The Dark Lord is on his way here now!"

"Potter? Harry Potter? What are you doing here?" the voice came from the end of the corridor, where an astounded Professor McGonagall stood, eyes traveling from the crowd of students to Carrow.

"Professor! Voldemort is on his way!" Potter said frantically, "You have to secure the castle!"

"Yes, Potter I'm about to do just that." McGonagall said, "Alecto Carrow has been found stunned by several Ravenclaws in their common room, Severus Snape has fled Hogwarts, I was on my way to put down Amycus when you kindly did the job for me."

"What's the plan, Harry?" Seamus asked again, even McGonagall was looking at Potter expectantly.

He turned to face Hermione, surprising her, "Are you sure you know where it is?"

She nodded firmly.

"And you're sure there's going to be a battle?"

Another nod.

"Alright, listen up!" Potter shouted, "Everyone of age prepare for a fight! Anyone younger follow Professor McGonagall!"

He looked towards the matronly professor who nodded at him in agreement and the students crowding the seventh floor corridor dissipated.

"So where is it?" Longbottom asked the Slytherins.

Hermione and Draco looked at each other before saying, "Right here."

"What?" Weasley asked dumbly,

"In the Room of Requirement. It's in the Room of Hidden Things." Draco said, "We saw it all the time on the way to fix the Vanishing Cabinet in sixth year."

"Let's go then." Potter said, trudging forward.

"Wait, Harry," Neville stalled, "I have an idea. What if Ron and I go to the Chamber? We still need something to kill e Horcruxes with and the basilisk-"

"Brilliant, Nev!" Ron said, grinning. "Are you going to be alright with the snakes, Harry?"

Potter nodded, "Go on, we'll meet in the Great Hall."

* * *

 **a/n:** _Hullo friends! It's China again! Fortunately, I didn't allow another mon to pass before updating teehee. Happy reading and don't forget to drop a hello if you like something or if you hate something, though I hope you don't, in the review section before you leave! :)_


	56. Chapter 56 : Farewell to the Prince

**Chapter 56 : Farewell to the Prince**

Hermione smirked upon seeing Potter hesitate for a moment after his friends left, glancing at her and Draco.

"Having second thoughts Potter?" Draco sneered, catching her smirk, "Think the big, bad Slytherins are setting you up?"

"Hush, love," Hermione chastised jokingly, "he might actually start hexing you."

Potter scowled in irritation, "If you're quite done, we have a Horcrux to find, in case you forgot."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Come along then, Chosen One."

She opened the door, raising a brow at how Draco had fallen to the back of their group with a watchful eye on Potter. Hermione shook her head and trudged on, veering away from large mountains of junk.

"Where are we?" Potter asked.

"The Room of Hidden Things," she said simply. After several months of working on the cabinet, her feet had practically memorized the route, and quicker than Potter must have expect they were there.

"Where is it, then?" he asked, looking around.

"There!" Draco pointed out, where the diadem sat atop a bust of a grumpy looking old man with a wig, it's sapphires glinting under their wand light. Potter moved to take it when he was interrupted by a low rumbling voice.

"Hold it, Potter."

He skidded to a halt and Hermione was filled with mortification as Crabbe and Goyle appeared at one end of the labyrinth. She heard Draco curse under his breath from beside her.

"We knew you were too soft to be a real Death Eater, Malfoy," Crabbe sneered, eyeing his housemates with disdain, "The Dark Lord should have picked us."

Hermione laughed hollowly, "You would've been killed before even doing anything."

"Shut up, bitch." Goyle sneered, "Blood traitors like you don't deserve to talk to your superiors. Our Lord will reward us for bringing you to him."

"Like hell, Goyle." Draco snarled, shooting an Impedimenta his way.

"Potter, the diadem!" Hermione shouted, just before turning to shoot a curse at the Vanishing Cabinet, just in case the Dark Lord had any ideas. It was a bad idea to turn back while there was fighting in front of her, because Crabbe had cast a curse at her, catching her on the shoulder with a nasty slicing jinx.

"Don't fucking touch my woman!" Draco growled, bringing his wand down to send a bright blue curse the offender's way. Crabbe was thrown back into a pile of rubbish that came crashing down around him.

"Your woman?" Hermione asked, shooting a spell at Goyle who looked furious.

"Of course, darling." Draco said, smirking (as he believed) valiantly.

"I've got it!" Potter shouted, bringing their attention to him where he stood atop a trash mountain, waving the tiara.

Goyle roared angrily, and his wand erupted in blazing flames, the nearest thing catching on fire as he tried burning them down.

"You blithering idiot!" Hermione yelled, eyes widening, "That's fiendfyre!"

"Shite," Draco cursed, "We have to go before we're burnt into a crisp."

He hissed angrily, realizing that Goyle was blocking the exit, then shouted in triumph upon seeing a pile of old broomsticks leaning on a wobbling mountain.

"You're not going to like my idea, love." he said.

"Just get us out of here alive, Draco." she said, her heartbeat racing as fast as th fire was catching. They could already feel it's heat against their skin.

Draco quickly snatched a couple of brooms and straddled one. "Come on, ride with me."

Hermione obliged, grateful that she wouldn't be flying by herself, not fully trusting her ability to do so.

"Potter!" Draco shouted, seeing the boy kicking at a chair that had lit up in flames. "Catch!"

The broom flew through the air, landing perfectly in Potter's free hand." He quickly got on and kicked off

"We can't leave them!" Potter shouted to the two Slytherins ahead of him.m

"Are you bloody kidding me?!" Draco shouted, "They tried to kill us!"

Potter ignored him, choosing instead to swerve back into the fire, straight for Crabbe and Goyle who were trying to fend it off with weak Aguamentis.

"If we die, I'm going to kill him." Draco hissed in aggravation as he went to follow.

Hermione felt the urge to sigh as sadness filled her, intermingling with fear and exhilaration. Vince and Greg had never truly been her friends, their minds were a little too addled with their father's teachings of blood purity to ever make them close, but her heart was reaching out to them. She understood Potter's need to save them, even if she herself hadn't even given up a second glance.

Draco swooped down, grabbing Goyle's outstretched hand while Crabbe clambered onto the back of Potter's broom, and then they were off once again.

" _Faster, Draco!_ " she screamed, feeling the flames licking at her feet.

"I'm going as fast as I can!" he yelled.

"GET YOUR RUDDY HANDS OFF ME!" Potter yelled from in front of them. Crabbe was swiping at the diadem, trying to grabs hold. Potter elbowed him in he chest forcefully, succeeding with a loud choke from the Slytherin. But it would take more than that to stop him. Crabbe tried again, reaching for the diadem and shouting when he grabbed on to one side.

"POTTER WATCH OUT!" Hermione warned, seeing a burst of flames come from their right. Potter swerved to avoid it and she thought she could breathe easily, the doors were only a few meters away but then….

"AHHHHHHHHHH!" came the scream of a flailing Crabbe falling into the flames, the diadem in his hands.

"POTTER, DON'T!" Draco schouted. The boy in question had been about to fly down to try and save him, but e fire had already engulfed him and the tiara. The fire emitted a billowing black smoke that quickly formed into the shape of a fanged serpent.

"FLY, DRACO!" Hermione shouted.

They ended up falling face down into the stone floor outside the room of requirement, soot stained and gasping for breath. Draco pulled her to stand.

"Are you alright?" he asked, cupping her face in his hands.

"I'm fine…" she breathed out.

"C-Crabbe…" choked Goyle, looking at e closed doors in anguish.

Draco sneered hatefully at him and cast a Stunner, making him fall to the floor in a heap

"The diadem-" Potter said, eyes wide in shock.

"It's gone now." Hermione said simply, "Fiendfyre and Basilisk venom are two of the only things that can destroy Horcruxes."

Potter nodded, "We have to get going –"

He broke off as yells and shouts and the unmistakeable noises of dueling filled the corridor. Hermione's heart seemed to stop at the realization that the Dark Lord had succeeded in penetrating Hogwarts.

One of the Weasley twins and an elder brother had just backed into view, both dueling masked and hooded men. The three of them ran forward to help, jets of light flew in every direction and one man backed off backed off, fast: Then his hood slipped and they saw a high forehead and streaked hair —

"Hello, Minister!" bellowed – Percy? Was that his name? - sending a neat jinx straight at Thicknesse, who dropped his wand and clawed at the front of his robes, apparently in awful discomfort. "Did I mention I'm resigning?"

"You're joking, Perce!" shouted the twin, as the Death Eater he was battling collapsed under the weight of three separate Stunning Spells. Thicknesse had fallen to the ground with tiny spikes erupting all over him; he seemed to be turning into some form of sea urchin. Fred looked at Percy with glee.

The air began to hum with energy that only she had seemed to notice, quickly she threw a shielde charm over the five of them, the transparent blue dome barely visible as the fight wore on.

"You actually are joking, Perce. . . . I don't think I've heard you joke since you were —"

The air exploded. She felt the blast of magic try to break at her shield, and she gripped her wand tighter, willing the spell to stick, chanting through grit teeth. The four in the group that had realized she was responsible for the fact that they were still on their feet turned to her in surprise.

Then, as quick as it came, the attack on her shield fell away. She dropped it and cold air told her that one side of the castle had been blown away.

"Is everyone alright?" she asked.

"Blimey, I knew you were good for something, my Lady!" the twin exclaimed cheerily.

"Constant vigilance!" Hermione growled, "If you had felt the magic I wouldnt have felt the need to protect you."

Just as she finished speaking, a body fell past the hole blown into the side of the school, and curses flew in at them from the darkness, hitting the wall behind their heads.

"Get down!" Potter shouted, and they all ducked for cover behind the part of the wall still remaining.

"Let's move, NOW!" he ordered just as Hermione caught sight of an Acromantula coming towards the opening.

"I don't need to be told twice." she said, breaking off into a run next to Draco, all the while shooting spells behind them. She took down a spider with a well placed petrification charm entwined with a slicing hex.

"Nice shot, my lady!" Fred grinned at her.

"If you have time for jokes, Weasley, you have time for curses." she shouted in exasperation.

Rounding the corner, Percy let out a bulllike roar: "ROOKWOOD!" and sprinted off in the direction of a tall man, who was pursuing a couple of students.

"Where to, Harry?" Fred asked, now looking serious.

"The snake," potter panted, "We have to kill Nagini."

"She won't be far from the Dark Lord." Hermione said factually. "Where he is, the snake is. Can you look inside his mind on command, Potter?"

But Harry was already on it, stopping to pause, he closed his eyes and breathed in.

With a gasp, Harry pulled back and opened his eyes; at the same moment his ears were assaulted with the screeches and cries, the smashes and bangs of battle.

"He's in the Shrieking Shack. The snake's with him, it's got some sort of magical protection around it. He's just sent Lucius Malfoy to find Snape. Your father's looking for you, Malfoy."

"I don't bloody care if that arse charges in here right now to drag me away." Draco said darkly. "I would've thought that the Dark Lord would be out fighting by now."

"He doesn't think he needs to fight," said Harry. "He thinks I'm going to go to him."

Fred snorted, "Who would have thought, ol' Voldy's a lazy berk."

"But why?" "He knows I'm after Horcruxes — he's keeping Nagini close beside him — obviously I'm going to have to go to him to get near the thing — I'll go under the Cloak and be back as soon as –"

"You're joking, Potter." Hermione huffed, "You'd be walking straight into his trap."

"I don't see you offering to do it." Potter pointed out.

"I'm a spy, Potter, not a fucking hero." she said, tipping her chin in disdain.

"POTTER!" Two masked Death Eaters stood there, but even before their wands were fully raised, Hermione shouted, " _Glisseo_!"

The stairs beneath their feet flattened into a chute and the four of them hurtled down it, unable to control their speed but so fast that the Death Eaters' Stunning Spells flew far over their heads.

" _Cadere_!" she shouted, making the two Death Eaters fall flat on their faces.

"Get back!" shouted Fred as a herd of galloping desks thundered past, shepherded by a sprinting Professor McGonagall. She appeared not to notice them: Her hair had come down and there was a gash on her cheek. As she turned the corner, they heard her scream, "CHARGE!"

"Oi, Freddie! I've been looking everywhere for you!" a familiar voice sounded once the dust settled.

"Georgie!" Fred said ecstatically, "Let's go kick some Death Eaters in the crotch, what do you say?"

"Couldn't have said it better myself, Forge." And with that, the pair skedaddled off.

"Harry!" came the paired shouts of Neville and Ron, who were hurrying to meet them.

"Come on!" Potter said, throwing the cloak over the three of them, taking off down the next staircase.

" _Expulso_!" Draco cast, shooting at someone behind her, she turned to see another Death Eater fall.

"What now?" Draco said.

"We fight." she said flatly.

Draco nodded, turning towards her with a look of determination, and he pulled her closer towards him, bring his lips down before she could protest.

"I love you." He said firmly.

"I love you, too." She said, tears threatening to leak out of her eyes, "You better come out of this alive, Draco Malfoy, or I'll marry someone richer and better looking than you just to spite you."

"That's impossible," he smirked, "No one's richer or better looking than me."

She laughed, despite the situation. "Come, now." she said, "We have a castle to protect."

They charged into the fray, knocking down as many Death Eaters as they could. Draco pried off Fenrir Greyback in the middle of him mauling a Gryffindor girl, slamming the werewolf out into a window.

Hermione quickly cast several healing charms to stop the girl's bleeding. She hissed in pain as a stray spell caught her in the back, making her turn. The sight made her gasp in horror.

Remus Lupin was dueling Antonin Dolohov, whose mask had fallen off in the middle of fighting, and it seemed as if Dolohov was winning. Just as he was about to cast that puple flames spell she knew so well from watching him during the revels, she jumped into action.

 _"AVADA KEDAVRA_!" she cried, the words slipping out of her mouth before she could stop them. The familiar seductive feel of dark magic embraced her, making her shiver, but she pushed it down and watched as her green curse made its mark, capturing Dolohov's surprised expression as the man fell in a stiff heap.

Lupin turned, eyes wide, to look at his savior. Upon seeing that it was her, he nodded gratefully, and took off running. Hermione went back, looking for Draco. The familiar flash of white blonde hair peeked from behind a tapestry and she hurried over to find him crouched over another Gryffindor, this time a you boy, barely even a fifth year, who was bleeding profusely from a wound in his side.

Draco fumbled over healing spells frantically, trying his best to staunch the bleeding, but Hermione saw the moment when the boy's life fled from his eyes, and she looked away, unable to bear it.

She placed a shaking hand on her lover's shoulder, "Draco, it's no use." She whispered.

"N-no… I can – I can save him…" he stuttered.

"Draco… he's gone." She said painfully, leaning forward to close the young boy's eyes.

Her fiancé's sobs filled her ears and she barely registered him clinging to her legs. "I could have saved him."

"No, you couldn't have." She said solemnly. "He had lost too much blood –"

Suddenly, a high, cold voice spoke so close to them that they both flinched, brandishing their wands at the sound, thinking that their master had come upon them. Voldemort's voice reverberated from the walls and floor, and Hermione realized that he was talking to Hogwarts and to all the surrounding area, that the residents of Hogsmeade and all those still fighting in the castle would hear him as clearly as if he stood beside them, his breath on the back of their necks, a deathblow away.

"You have fought," said the high, cold voice, "valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste.

"Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.

"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

Hermione and Draco shivered, detesting the voice that slid out of their heads.

"We should take him to the Great Hall." Draco said brokenly, looking down at the fallen boy.

"Yes." She nodded, "I just need to check on something."

She rounded the corner to find the Gryffindor girl who she had healed earlier huddled behind a suit of armor, bloody and shaking, but still very much alive. Hermione approached warily.

"We need to get your wounds checked." Hermione said softly, maintaining her distance.

The girl looked up and Hermione tried her very best not to flinch at her blood stained face.

"You're Lavender Brown, right?" she said.

The girl nodded, unable to speak for the large wound that slashed across her mouth.

"Can you stand?" she asked.

Lavender tried, getting to her feet just to have her knees buckle. Luckily, Hermione was quick enough to catch her. "Don't worry." She said in the same, soothing voice, "I'll help you. Let's get you fixed up."

She joined Draco, who had the boy levitating a few feet in front of him, and they marched quietly into the Great Hall.

The castle was unnaturally silent. There were no flashes of light now, no bangs or screams or shouts. The flagstones of the deserted entrance hall were stained with blood. Emeralds were still scattered all over the floor, along with pieces of marble and splintered wood. Part of the banisters had been blown away.

The House tables were gone and the room was crowded. The survivors stood in groups, their arms around each other's necks. The injured were being treated upon the raised platform by Madam Pomfrey and a group of helpers. Hermione quickly led Lavender there, and offered her help, assuring the nurse that she was proficient at healing.

The dead lay in a row in the middle of the hall and Hermione's heart ached to see Professor Trelawney laying still, as well as Padma Patil, who had her sister crouched over her wailing loudly.

She spied a sandy haired man sitting to the end of the row, a large tear in his robes exposing his back and the ghastly wound that had been inflicted upon him. She approached him quickly, ready to offer her service when she realized that it was Remus Lupin, holding the hand of a pink haired witch, lying at the very last of the row.

She swallowed heavily as she neared him. "Professor, your bleeding." she said softly.

"I don't feel it." He said, sounding hollow.

Hermione blinked back tears at the anguish so obvious on the man's face, "She would have wanted you to live, Professor."

Lupin spared one glance at her, his glassy eyes seeming only then to register who she was. "She has you to thank for that, Hermione." He choked.

"Professor," Hermione pleaded, "Please let me heal you."

The man nodded somberly, returning to mourn his wife as the young girl began working, casting cleaning spells to banish the dried blood.

For the next thirty minutes, she mended bones, stitched flesh back together, and stopped bleeding. Faces blurred together so quickly that she grew dizzy at the effort she was exerting. Her vision grew hazy and Hermione felt a pair of strong hands catch her.

"Easy there, Mione." The voice from behind her said, cradling her in his arms.

"Theo?" she said, trying to clear her vision.

"Yes, it's me, witch," he said, smiling sadly. "Do you realize that you're bleeding?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, brows furrowing in confusion. "No, I'm not."

"You are, witch, and if I don't heal you before Draco noticed, he's going to skin me alive." Theo said, propping her up a chair."

"Theo, I would know if I was bleeding – AH!" the last sound was a screech as her friend prodded the wound in between her shoulder blades with his wand.

"Say that one more time?" he said challengingly.

"Oh, get on with it, you great sod." she grumbled.

"Anyone pointed a wand at you and cried Death Eater yet?"

"A few," she admitted, "Potter's friends haven't, though." She said, "Did Daphne and Pansy get out fine?"

"Mhmm," he hummed, "Went along with the younger years. Had to restrain Blaise from joining us though, the wanker suddenly thought himself a hero and wanted to fight."

Hermione let out a soft chuckle, "Blaise would have taken one look at all the blood and ran off."

"Too right." Theo agreed.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione spied three young men walk in and she pushed Theo away quickly, watching the small group break up.

"Hermione!" Her friend protested.

"Later, Theodore." She said hotly, making her way through the throngs of people towards Neville, who was talking to Luna Lovegood.

When Neville saw her, he tensed, before excusing himself with a nod to the Ravenclaw girl. Hermione waited patiently for him to approach, the dread growing as his face became even more somber.

She knew what the words he was going to say before they were out of his mouth, and they were all it took for her to break down to her knees, the tears flowing freely down her face.

" _Snape's dead."_

* * *

 **a/n: Hello lovelies, hope you liked his chapter! Trying to round everything off to an even 60! Remember, review! You like it? Review! Hate it? Review! Want to chuck your mobile device put the window because I can't finish this fucking story fast enough? Review!** _!_


	57. Chapter 57 : La Mort du maître

**Chapter** **57 : La Mort du Maître**

A firm pair of hands gripped her by the arms to pull her firmly to her feet, where she leaned limply against Draco, her face buried into his chest, unable to control the pained sobs escaping from her.

Draco's grip tightened, forcing her to look up at his intense gaze. Hermione was fairly certain that he was trying his best to keep his stoic expression on his face. His eyes burned into hers like a searing curse.

"No tears." he whispered into her ear. "Not yet."

Anger swelled in her, warring with the fact that he was right. She had no time to grieve for people already lost. Swallowing her scathing reply to him, she nodded dumbly, closing her eyes to catch her breath as he tried to clear her face of tears.

"There's my strong girl." he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Come now, someone's been cursed by one of Dolohov's and Pomfrey isn't sure how to heal it.

He took one of her hands and pulled her towards the mediwitch, who was frantically muttering every spell in her arsenal to try and banish away the effects of the curse. Hermione took one look at the angry purple curse mark above the witch's heart and immediately tensed.

"Ice it. Now." she said, reaching for a Potions Kit. Pomfrey followed without hesitation, charming the curse mark frozen and watched as the victim began breathing easier.

"The curse is designed to thicken the blood increasingly until it stops the heart." Hermione explained, pouring a blood thinning potion into the witch's mouth, "Administer the potion every thirty minutes, along with a cooling charm to slow down the curse. She'll need to be moved to Mungo's as soon as possible."

She watched as the witch's complexion began to return to normal and sighed in relief. Dolohov was vicious with his curses, had they been a minute later, the witch would have died.

Time passed and Draco stayed by her side as she moved to heal anyone who needed help, assisting her when she needed it and setting a soothing hand on her shoulder when her hands began to shake again. Theo came up to them once to hand them each an Invigoration Draught.

It was more than difficult, being three speculated Death Eaters amidst people fighting for the light. There were still some individuals who shied away from them, refusing healing adamantly. They understood of course, but after a while it grew taxing, being hissed at and glared at. Some of the Order were doing their best to inform everyone of their situation, but it wasn't their biggest priority at the moment.

So the three Slytherins sat huddled together wrapped in blankets in one side of the Great Hall. Hermione had cast a Patronus to ward off the unearthly chill that was settling amongst them. They watched the little fox tumble in between their feet playfully, all the while keeping their guard up in case another attack came.

They saw Longbottom and Weasley enter the Hall, frantically looking around, out of breath. Weasley ran to talk to one of his brothers – the one with the earring – and paled visibly. He turned to face Longbottom, and the two began a tense discussion under their breaths.

Surprisingly, the two Gryffindors made their way to them, unaware of the gazes following the, as they crossed the room to meet the Slytherins.

"We can't find Harry." Longbottom said nervously. "Have you seen him?"

"Not since you three came in." Theo said at the exact moment Draco snapped, "What do you mean you can't find Potter? How do you lose a person?"

Longbottom, wisely ignored Draco's snipe and said, "We think he might have gone to You-Know-Who."

Hermione sighed tiredly, "Knowing Potter, I'd bet my inheritance on it."

"Did you look everywhere?" Theo asked, the only one of them who was still half sane.

"He said he was going to Dumbledore's office but-"

Longbottom paused abruptly, noticing that the Great Hall had gone dead silent. The five of them looked around, seeing several faces painted with fear – that's when they heard it – the sound of a multitude of footsteps approaching them. One witch, who was sitting on top of a statue as a lookout slid down hurriedly.

"It's them. All of them." she said, her voice sounding like a scream in the silent hall.

They were out of their seats in an instant, the blankets pooling to the floor while their hands gripped their wands tightly. She felt Draco's hand slip into hers.

"Whatever happens," he said tersely, "I love you."

"I love you too, Draco." she said, blinking back her tears.

Hermione hugged Theo fiercely. "Constant vigilance, Nott."

"Right back at you, Mione." Nott grinned.

They followed the Weasley's out the door, behind the professors and several members of the Order. She ignored the small voice in her head telling her to run, instead holding her head high as Lord Voldemort approached. Her eyes landed on Narcissa right behind Bellatrix, and felt Draco's hand in hers twitch. There was no sign of Lucius Malfoy in sight. Narcissa gave them a small shake of their head, her eyes wide and full of warning for them to stay where they were.

"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone. The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."

Voldemort's voice was like a ringing in her eardrums, she willed herself not to go limp with despair, instead training her eyes to the figure in Hagrid's arms. She faintly registered Ginny Weasley shouting in front of her.

Bellatrix was laughing manically at the cries of anguish that erupted from the crowd. Hermione felt their pain shooting straight into her soul. Was this truly the end?

"SILENCE!" cried Voldemort, with a flash and bang of bright light. "It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!"

Harry Potter's still body lay on the cold stone at the Dark Lord's feet, unmoving.

"You see?" said Voldemort, striding forward, "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

"He beat you!" yelled Ron, and the charm broke, and the defenders of Hogwarts were shouting and screaming again until a second, more powerful bang extinguished their voices once more.

"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds," said Voldemort, and there was relish in his voice for the lie, "killed while trying to save himself —"

Hermione wanted to yell at the idiot to stay still, wanted to grab at his shirt to pull him back, but Neville had surged forward, his wand had flown out of his hand with a simple Disarming spell.

"And who is this?" he said in his soft snake's hiss. "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"

Bellatrix gave a delighted laugh. "It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord! Potter's little lackey! The son of the Aurors, remember?"

"Ah, yes," the Dark Lord said thoughtfully, "But you are a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?"

"So what if I am?" Neville said loudly, voice unwavering.

"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."

"I'll join you when hell freezes over," said Neville. "Dumbledore's Army!" he shouted, and there was an answering cheer from the crowd. She remained silent, watching the still body at the Dark Lord's feet.

"Very well," said Voldemort, the silliness of his voice made Hermione want to be sick. She had heard it too many times, before he was about to dispose of someone who had disobeyed him.

"If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your head," he said quietly, "be it."

Voldemort waved his wand, making her wince, but Neville did not fall to the floor, instead a sound of a window breaking echoed throughout the grounds and something came flying through the light of dawn and landed I. The Dark Lord's waiting hand. He shook the mildewed object by its pointed end and it dangled, empty and ragged: the Sorting Hat.

"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School," said Voldemort. "There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield, and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone. Won't they, Neville Longbottom?"

He pointed his wand at Neville, who grew rigid and still, then forced the hat onto Neville's head, so that it slipped down below his eyes. There were movements from the watching crowd in front of the castle, and as one, the Death Eaters raised their wands, holding the fighters of Hogwarts at bay.

"Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me," said Voldemort, and with a flick of his wand, he caused the Sorting Hat to burst into flames.

Horrified screams broke through the crowd, and Neville was aflame. Hermione raised her wand discretely, trying to tame the heat, but before she could do much of anything, several things began to happen at once.

They heard uproar from the distant boundary of the school as what sounded like hundreds of people came swarming over the outof-sight walls and pelted toward the castle, uttering loud war cries.

A giant came lumbering from the side of the castle shouting something that sounded like "HAGGARD!", an answering cry came from Voldemort's giants, who ran at him like a herd of elephants. Then came hooves and the twangs of bows, and arrows were suddenly falling amongst the Death Eaters, who broke ranks, shouting their surprise.

In one swift, fluid motion, Neville broke free of the Body-Bind Curse upon him; the flaming hat fell off him and he drew from its depths something silver, with a glittering, rubied handle — Hermione gasped at the sight. Watching with rapt attention as Neville brought the sword slashing down on Nagini, who was rushing to strike at him, fangs glinting sharply.

He sliced its head clean off, causing a surge of Dark Magic to become expel from the serpent. Voldemort's mouth was open in a scream of fury that nobody could hear, and the snake's body thudded to the ground at his feet —

"Where's Potter?" Draco said, drawing her attention to the empty space on the ground just as Hagrid's began shouting, asking the same question.

The crowd broke quickly as chaos took over, the centaurs broke apart the Death Eaters, the straps and hippogryffs soared above them as fighting broke out. Hermione braced herself as she let go of Draco's hand. Shooting down a masked Death Eater as she did so. The confusion in his eyes was apparent as she cast a spell on him.

"Hermione!" the shriek caught the breath out of her lungs, she turned to face her aunt once and for all, "Have you been Confunded, darling?"

The concern in the insane woman's voice almost made her laugh. "Not at all, Aunty." she said, smirking. "I've just had a revelation."

"What of, dearest? Why don't you come tell me as we Crucio the little Mudbloods?" Bella said sweetly.

"That's just it, Aunty. I've decided I don't fancy all your bullshit any more." Hermione grinned, eyes glinting in anger as her spells rolled off her wand. She watched Bellatrix's eyes widen and harden altogether as her face twisted into a sneer.

"TRAITOR!" she roared murderously, fighting back with her own barrage of curses.

Hermione stood firm, ready for the onslaught. No matter how crazy Bellatrix was, she was a terrifyingly powerful witch nonetheless. The spell casting intensfied into what looked like an even match until Hermione stumbled, a curse catching her midsection and she began to feel the blood spilling out of her, seeping into her clothes.

" _Avada Kedavra_!"

Hermione steeled herself for it as the flash of green light appeared, but instead, she was pulled upright, where she was subjected to various healing spells.

"Narcissa?" she said breathlessly, feeling her skin knit back together,

"No one touches my daughter." the witch said, caressing the younger girl's face lovingly. Hermione pulled her into a grateful embrace only to be pushed away a second later.

"Go, find Draco." Narcissa ordered, "Protect him."

Hermione hesitated, fearing that the Order might mistake Narcissa for a Death Eater, but the people surrounding them during the duel had seen what the witch had done, and were leaving her be.

"Go to the Infirmary." Hermione instructed. "Help Pomfrey."

Narcissa barely nodded before leaving Hermione on her own to find Draco. She finally saw him dueling Rowle next to Theo.

"Need a bit of help, darling?" she asked, covering his side and stunning a Death Eater.

Draco spared her a look, "I saw you fighting Bella."

"Your mother killed her." Hermione said, relishing the words, "Don't worry, she's going to help Pomfrey instead of fighting."

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw a throng of houselves break out of the building screaming and waving carving knives and cleavers as the began hacking at every bit of black they could see.

The trio of Slytherins, noticing that the Death Eaters were swarming into the Great Hall, followed, casting tripping hexes as they went.

"Shite, it's the Selwyns." Theo cursed as two of their former comrades tried to block their way.

"Shield charms up." Hermione reminded. "Remember they favor Imperio."

The man and wife Death Eaters began shooting a barrage of curses at them and they retaliated immediately, their curses interweaving with one another, counter charms mixing with hexes, unforgivable a underlying simple jinxes.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Voldemort dueling Kingsley, McGonagall, and Slughorn all at once. Just as Theo struck Eleazar Selwyn with a Petrificus, the Dark Lord spied something that made him bellow in anger.

"NO!" Draco shouted, seeing what had caught the dark wizard's attention. His mother was helping the Molly Weasley against Yaxley, the two witches fighting side by side.

" _Protego_!" someone roared shielding both Narcissa and Molly. Hermione quickly disarmed the remaining Selwyn and Theo shot him down quickly.

"It's Potter!" Hermione exclaimed, seeing the dark haired boy face Voldemort.

"Lucky fucking wanker." Theo shouted gleefully. "Get him, Potter!"

I don't want anyone else to try to help," Harry said loudly, and in the total silence his voice carried like a trumpet call. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

"Potter doesn't mean that," Voldemort said, his red eyes wide. "That isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"

"Nobody," said Harry simply. "There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good. . . ."

"One of us?" jeered Voldemort, "You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?"

They were distracted by the pair's duel by a string of curses sent their way. Three snatchers had noticed them, and pounced while they were unaware. Hermione hissed in pain as a burning hex caught her hand. She heard Draco growl angrily from beside her and begin shouting out curses.

Sweat was dripping down her neck, her hand was throbbing all the way to her elbows, Draco had a cut on his neck that was bleeding into his shirt, Theo had a limp on his leg but they trudged forward, chanting as a team, dodging spells out of their way and blocking several others.

Once the three wizards were down, the trio went back to observing the duel that had everyone's attention. Bolts of curse light and beams of magic shot from the pair of wizards and they heard a snippet of conversation that made their jaws drop open.

" _What the hell did he mean that I was the master of the elder wand?_ " Draco hissed in disbelief just as the bang of the wizards' simultaneous curses erupted throughout the Great Hall. Hermione saw Voldemort's want fly out of his hand, and it seemed as if time slowed. Voldemort fell backward, arms splayed, the slit pupils of the scarlet eyes rolling upward.

Tom Riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty, the snakelike face vacant and unknowing. Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse, and Harry Potter stood, the victor, two wands in his hand over his enemy's still corpse.

There was a pregnant moment of silence, the shock of the moment making them pause, the the tumult broke all around the hall as screams and cheers and roars chi,Ed in the air. Pops of apparation sounded amongst the celebration, Death Eaters running for it, Aurors finally showing up.

People were surrounding Potter, crying and patting his back shaking his hand and thanking him over and over again. Hermione laughed hysterically, turned to her fiancé and jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around him to press a grateful, tear stained kiss on him.

"We're alive." she said softly, smiling against his lips.

Draco tightened his hold around her waist, his eyes shining with mirth, "We're alive."


	58. Chapter 58 : In Memoriam

**Chapter 58 : In Memoriam**

The celebrations hadn't lasted that long for them. A short while after the Aurors had appeared, they were recognized and restrained. Hermione was livid, snarling at the auror who was casting the cuffing charm on her wrists.

"We've defected!" she growled as Draco was held against a wall.

"That's not what your Dark Mark says." The auror sneered.

"POTTER!" she shouted angrily, drawing the attention of the bespectacled boy who had been conversing with Kingsley. He turned towards her with a grim look on his face.

"Oh, spit it out, Potter," she spat, "Might as well just tell me that my bleeding mission means less than shite to you."

"I've been trying to tell Kinglsey, Dagworth, truly, but he says you still have to go through the trial." Potter said grimly. "I'm trying my best here."

"I'm not going to Azkaban, Potter!" she half shouted, glancing at Draco and Theo who were observing their conversation with blank expressions, " _We_ aren't going to Azkaban."

* * *

The face of Lucius Malfoy flashed before her eyes, the reminder of his eerily empty gaze and his haunted expression would stay with her forever.

"Give me a moment." Potter muttered, going back to Kingsley, where they began another conversation, this time with rapid hand movements and shaking of heads.

Finally, Potter broke away from the now Interim Minister of Magic and went back to her, "The best Kingsley can do is place you in a holding cell in the Ministry until the trial."

"Narcissa too." Hermione said, taking a calming breath, "She isn't even a Death Eater."

Potter nodded firmly. "Kingsley will try to expedite your trial dates before anyone else's. The Ministry is a mess at the moment."

Hermione nodded, "Potter, do me a favor and owl my grandfather. Alphard Black. Dagworth-Granger Estate, Paris."

"It's the least I can do," Potter said. "I'm sorry I can't do more."

Hermione sighed, "See you at the trial, Potter."

* * *

Hermione Dagworth-Granger was escorted to the Wizengamot Court exactly a week after the battle of Hogwarts, head held high and looking regal in dark dress robes and heels her grandfather had smuggled into her cell, which had been a sad sight, but not as sad as what Azkaban could have been. She hadn't seen either Draco, Theo, or Narcissa since being detained and it made her antsy.

But for the reporters, who were shoving their cameras at her, trying to blind her with flashes, she kept her expression flat and her back so straight her governess would have been proud.

The courtroom was filled with people, most of whom she knew. Her parents in the front rows looking anxious, as well as the Golden Trio and several Weasleys. Kingley Shacklebolt sat at his place on the dais, looking exactly like what she pictured a Minister of Magic should look like. The Wizengamot sat around him, looking down at her over horn rimmed glasses or hooked noses. Her grandfather sat at the Black Seat, smiling at her comfortingly.

"Wizengamot Court is now in session," the bailiff announced, calling for silence, Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt presiding."

"Good morning," Shacklebolt's magnified voice echoed around the room, "Calling the case the people versus Hermione Mira Black Dagworth-Granger. Miss Dagworth-Granger, do you swear on your magic to reveal the truth and nothing but the truth?"

"I do so solemnly swear." she said clearly.

"Miss Dagworth-Granger, you are accused of crimes against the Wizarding World, the casting of an Unforgivable, the destruction of a Romanian town, the destruction of property in Diagonal Alley, possession of the Dark Mark, and aiding and abetting several criminals, to the likes of Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange Lucius Malfoy, Antonin Dolohov and Tom Marvolo Riddle. How do you plead?"

"I plead guilty and for full clemency." she said, making sure that she was heard loud and clear.

The courtroom broke into a cacophony of shouts and clicks of cameras.

"SILENCE!" Kingsley roared.

"On what grounds, Miss Dagworth-Granger?"

Hermione lifted her chin, "On grounds of espionage under Albus Dumbledore for the Order of the Phoenix."

Once again, noise filled the room, only to by quieted by Kingsley.

"What evidence do you have of this, Miss Davworth-Granger?"

"I call Alphard Regulus Black as my first witness." she said, not looking at her grandfather.

Her grandfather appeared on the podium to Kingley's right a mask of seriousness on his face.

"Lord Black, what is your relation to the accused?" asked Kingley.

"She is my granddaughter." Alphard said clearly.m

"We're you aware of the fact that Albus Dumbledore had placed her as a spy under the Order of the Phoenix?"

"Yes. I was aware. In fact, I, along with my nephew, the pardoned, Sirius Orion Black trained her starting the summer of 1994. Albus Dumbledore approached me with his idea and my granddaughter readily agreed to save her friends."

"What friends, Lord Black?" Kingsley asked.

"Draco Abraxas Malfoy and Theodore Nott Jr. She had overheard a conversation years prior between the boys' father's pledging their sons into Tom Riddle's service. She hoped to protect them."

"And you and Sirius Black trained her?" Kingley asked.

"Yes, in mind magic, physical defense, magical defense, magical offense, and magical warding."

"When was the last time you saw the accused, Lord Black?"

"Last year. She left Paris to live in Malfoy Manor for the rest of the summer, per her mission. She was supposed to collect information regarding the workings of the Death Eaters and report it back to the Order through another informant in the Death Eater ranks."

"Who was this informant?" asked Kingsley, who knew full well who it was.

"Severus Snape." Alphard said, to the astonishment of the audience, "He has been working for the Order since the end of the First Wizarding War. Hermione also conveyed information to Albus Dumbledore through a secret means of communication."

"You may return to your seat, Lord Black." Kingsley said.

"What was the means of communication mentioned, Miss Dagworth-Granger?" asked the minister.

"It was a necklace on my part, and a medallon on the other connected through a Protean Charm that could convey a message whispered to it once either piece was punched by wand tip. At first, Albus Dumbledore possessed the medallon, then Harry Potter. Both medallon and necklace, which bears the seal of my house, are now in the passion of Harry Potter."

"I call Harry Potter to the stand." Kingsley said.

"Do you have the items in question, Mr Potter?"

"Yes, I do." Potter said, passing the necklace and medallon on.

"How long have you known the accused was working as a spy, Mr Potter?"

"Since our capture at Malfoy Manor." Potter said, "She was ordered to imprison us in the dungeons but purposefully left the door open for us to escape and told me to start using the medallon, because I had had no idea what it was. Dumbledore had left it to me in his will."

Several more witnesses came to pledge her innocence, from Remus Lupin, who admitted Dumbledore had told him the truth three years ago, to Seamus Finnegan, who shared that Hermione, Draco and Theo had all helped in healing the DA.

"The last of the witnesses have spoken, all of the evidence has been –"

"Minister, I have one last piece of evidence." Hermione interrupted politely.

"Proceed, Miss Dagworth-Granger." Kingley said.

"The last will and testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore." she said simply.

"Miss Dagworth-Granger," Mafalda Hopkirk said, "The will of Albus adumbledore has been carried out to its completion."

"On the time of Tom Riddle's death, Dumbledore's will was magically timed to include a hidden page in his will, admitting to my, and Severus Snape's involvements in the Order of the Phoenix, as well as writing of his belief that Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott are innocent."

The will was summoned quickly from the archives, and once it was revealed that what she had said was true, the courtroom once again burst into chatter.

"Those in favor of clearing the accused of all charges?" Madam Bones said to the Wizengamot.

It was unanimous.

Hermione smiled to herself, as they incurred her and returned her wand. She was hastily engulfed into a hug from both her parent.

"My darling girl," her mother was crying profusely, as well as her father, who until that moment she had never seen cry.

"We were so worried." Her father said, holding her tightly against his chest.

"Forgive me, Papa." she said, choking on tears.

"Ma cher, there is nothing to forgive."

* * *

Draco, Theo, and Narcissa's trials went almost quicker than hers. Their possible innocence had already been established during her own trial, so it was only seen as a formality. Narcissa had even been congratulated for killing Bellatrix, which Hermione found horrendous, she was her sister, after all.

The four Slytherins had chosen to leave the Ministry at the same time, braving the reporters and the crowd. Several people had walked up to her to thank her, which she received with a small, impatient smile. The requests from reporters for interviews however, were met with unforgiving glares, and the excuse that they wanted to be left in peace.

Alphard and her parents held out their Portkey, and all seven of them popped out of existence and back right into the marble floors of their Parisian Estate.

Theodore's father was in Azkaban, neither Draco or Narcissa wanted to go back to the manor, so Lyra quickly offered her own home, already looking at Hermione's left hand with a gleam in her eye that held the promise of wedding planning in the near future.

"Do you think we should just elope, love?" she said in what she thought was a quiet manner.

"NO!" both ladies shouted, glaring at their children, as if daring them to even try.

Draco laughed, a hearty, light laugh that she hadn't heard in months, "Don't go angering them, darling, they have claws."

Hermione sighed, leaning against her fiancé, "They're going to rip me apart."

"Look on the bright side," Theo smirked, "It will be fun for us to watch."

Hermione swatted him on the shoulder, and sighed again, "Finally." she breathed out.

"Is anyone else craving a spot of champagne?" Theo asked the room to receive several resounding "Yes, pleases."

* * *

Hermione woke up the next day, wrapped herself in her silk robe and padded down to the courtyard for breakfast. She was fixing herself a cup of tea when she heard the Floo roar to life from somewhere inside the house and suddenly, she was being tackled in a forced herself no to react with her wand up this person's throat, stiffly standing until whoever it was pulled away.

"How come you never told us?!" Daphne screeched, backing away to reveal that she had tears running down her face, and also made her notice that Blasie was behind her smirking with somewhat less of his usual pomp.

Hermione smiled and stepped forward to embrace her best friend. "I am so sorry, Daph. It was for your own good."

Daphne huffed, but smiled nonetheless.

"So," Blaise drawled, "have you seen the Prophet? They're painting you four as unsung heroes you know."

"Don't you have to be dead to be an unsung hero, though?" Hermione asked, sipping her tea.

"Slytherin was enough for them, I guess." he shrugged, slinging his arm around her shoulder. "So, our little Princess is a hero, huh?"

"Oh shut up." she said, rolling her eyes, "Potter and his band of baboons can be the heroes. I just want to sleep for a thousand years."

"Not possible!" Daphne cried, "You made me think all this time that you and Narcissa were planning a wedding! Have you even got a gown?"

Hermione smirked fondly at the blonde, "I was a little busy fighting for my life, Daph."

"There's so much to do!" Daphne said worriedly.

"You know, if you find my mother, she'll gladly include you in the plans along with Narcissa. You are after all, my maid of honor."

Daphne burst into peals of happy shrieking and went off to find the lady of the house.

"You just said that to get her out of your hair." Blaise grinned.

"Oi, hands off my woman, Zabini." came the voice of Draco from the doorway Daphne had left open.

Blaise raised his hands in surrender, smiling at them in amusement.

"You're up early." Hermione smiled, tipping her head up to receive his kiss. He smiled back, stealing her cup as he settled next to her.

"My bed warmer had disappeared, I had no choice." He said.

"Ooooooh, are Ladies Malfoy and Dagworth-Granger actually allowing you to sleep in the same room?" Blaise gasped.

"Sod off, Zabini." Draco said.

"They're being generous." Hermione explained, "They think if they give us this, we'll be more pliable about having the entire Wizarding world on our guest list instead of just a meager three hundred."

"Ah, yes, because with that number you can only fit the entire populace of Hogsmeade." Blaise chuckled.

"So, are you here to join us or is this just a visit?" Hermione asked.

"Daph wants to stay," Blaise said, "Everything's a mess in Britain right now, she wants to escape, I think."

"I asked about you, Blaise darling, not Daphne." Hermione said pointedly.

The couple broke into astounded giggling – giggling!- at the sight of Blaise Zabini succumbing to a blush.

Draco evolved into a full on guffaw. "Wait until Theo hears about this."

* * *

The invitations came one month after the battle. Several owls landed in front of the four of them as they were having supper, eliciting several eye brow raises from the people seated around the table at the Ministry seal on the letters.

"For your courage and bravery-" Hermione winced at these words, "during the Second Wizarding War, the Ministry of Magic cordially invites you to the Commemoration Ceremony to be held on August 7th of the magical year 1998 at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in honor of the souls lost during wartime, as well as to celebrate the rebuilding of one of the most esteemed institutions in the world. The Ministry of Magic would also wish to recognize your acts of heroicism and award you the Order of Merlin, First Class."

She blinked a few times, realizing that the room had gone silent. Narcissa, Theo, Draco and she had matching expressions on their faces, all of confusion at how to respond. It was not typical of Slytherins to be acknowledged for anything they'd done to be brave. They hadn't even tried to be brave at all.

"Would they think it rude of us if we just Pretended we didn't receive the letter?" Theo speculated, obviously uncomfortable.

"I think," Lyra thought aloud, "it would be potentially beneficial for all of us if you attended."

Hermione widened her eyes in surprise, "How so, Maman?"

"It is a time of change, as the papers have been saying," the lady of the house said carefully, "and all of our families have since it can be remembered, been affiliated with magic that no one would like to be reminded of at the moment. It would be ideal to accept this chance to clear our names completely."

Narcissa nodded her head in agreement, realizing that her cousin was making sense. "We shall need new dress robes of course."

Hermione bit back a groan, sparing a glance at her fiancé, who looked equally annoyed.

* * *

Draco had been fiddling with his cuff links in front of the mirror for the past ten minutes. She knew this because he looked exactly as she had left him before going inside her closet to change. She sighed softly, smoothing down her dress before slipping next to him and taking his hands and forcing them to be steady at his side. She fixed his collar, spreading her hands on his chest to flatten his robes.

He turned with her to face the mirror, looping his arm around her to pull her closer. His eyes sent her an anxious look through the reflection. As a pair, she thought they looked rather foreboding. Him, with his platinum hair and his pale complexion against his black dress robes, piercing grey eyes staring at whatever held his interest, and she, with her dark curls pooling down her back, amber eyes glinting with underlying threat to anyone who dared look at them oddly, red lips pulled into a pout and emerald green robes proudly displaying their Slytherin roots.

"Are we sure about this?" Draco murmured, burying his face in her hair.

It would be their first venture into the British public since the battle, and they all shared worries about the reaction they would receive. They had declined talking to the press, no matter how incessant the Daily Prophet was about getting a full page story about the inner workings of the Dark Lord's circle. Whenever they left for Le Carre, they would make sure to use precautions for their safety. Her father had even gone as far as to hire guards for her and Narcissa in the two weeks the Aurors spent wrangling up the remaining Death Eaters.

"No we're not." she said. "But my mother has a point. Besides, we'll have to face them sooner or later."

"I'm not a hero, Hermione." Draco said forlornly.

"Neither am I, love." she said.

He snorted, "Of course you are."

"I'm not." she said flatly, "Everything I did, I did for you and Theo. I would have never risked myself like that otherwise."

"You may have joined because of us, but you saved more than us, you know."

She shook her head. "I couldn't have left anyone to die."

"Exactly. You saved them, ergo, you're a hero."

"Well, if I'm a hero, you are one too." she said stubbornly.

"What an odd conversation." Someone said from behind them.

They turned to find Theodore leaning against the doorway to her room, arms crossed in front of him. "Would you have rathered being the villains, then?"

The couple glared at him nastily, refusing to acknowledge the silliness of their argument.

"Can we help you, Nott?" Draco asked, rolling his eyes.

"The Portkey leaves in five minutes. Thought you'd want to know." he said, before leaving them.

Hermione groaned and moved to reach for the perfume bottle on her vanity. However, before her fingers could wrap around the bottle, they were snatched away by Draco. She glance up at the mirror to find his eyes darkened and staring at the deep dip in the back of her dress robes that reached the small of her back starting from the ends of her shoulders.

"Have I told you that you look beautiful yet?" he murmured to her ear, making her shiver.

"I don't believe you have." she said breathily as he peppered kisses down her neck to her shoulder.

"Master Malfoy, Young Miss, the Portkey – Eeep!" Mimi, startled by the closeness of the two, tried covering her large eyes with her ears, wrapping them around her head.

Hermione sighed and pried herself away from Draco. "We're ready, Mimi."

The house elf peeked out from behind his ears and ran up to grab them by the hand. With a pop they reappeared in the greater sitting room, where her family, Theo, and Narcissa were waiting. Lyra looked her daughter up and down and smiled approvingly.

The Portkeys – two walking sticks that the elder gentlemen could then use after their activation began to glow brightly and they took hold immediately, eventually having the dizzying feeling of this form of travel wash over them. She leaned on Draco for support as their shaky feet met solid marble. As soon as they appeared, flashes met their eyes and they had to blink several times to adjust to the brilliant glares of light coming from the cameras of reporters.

Their names were being shouted at them every which way, Hermione slipped her arm through Draco's trying to angle her head so that she would be at least partially covered. They followed the velvet ropes separating the press from them into the large tent. The grass that used to be there had been transfigured temporarily into marble floors that changed into steps towards the Black Lake. A chaperone led them to their seats – a round table at the front left of the tent decked in gold and white flowers. A stage was in front, decorated grandly in gold, and a tarp covered the back, which would have showed the castle. She assumed that it was covering the commemoration statue that the invitation had pertained to.

A quick once over of the room brought to her attention the presence of Harry Potter and the rest of the Golden Trio, the entirety of the Weasley family, Remus Lupin, who shot her a weary smile, she made a note to approach him later, he was seated next to a woman dressed in black, with curly dark hair and eyes that reminded her of –

"Draco," she said under her breath, placing a hand over his arm to get his attention, "is that Andromeda Black?"

He barely had to twist his head to see who she had been talking about, "Yes," he said, "I haven't seen her in anything other than Mother's pictures, but that's her."

Hermione hummed in reply, the gears turning in her head. Her thoughts occupied her attention so much that she had not noticed the Minister of Magic, who had begun talking in front of them. It was only when a loud round of applause broke that she was brought to the present.

"And now, allow me to unveil the Freedom Wall, in honor of all the lives lost in the fight for our freedom." The Minister raised his wand, letting the tarp fall as the invisible band broke out in trumpeting music and the entire tent of rose to their feet in thundering applause, several faces were wet with tears as the large golden fifteen foot wall came to view. The names of the fallen were etched into the metal, which was glinting in the candle light.

"Anyone who wishes is free to approach the wall." the Minister said.

Hermione turned to Draco and Theo, and allowed them to lead her to the wall. She coincidentally ended up beside Potter, whose eyes were running down the names on the wall. Her own spotted the name she was searching for, his cramped, minuscule handwriting displayed right under Dumbledore's flowing script.

She conjured a white lily wandlessly, setting it down at the foot of the wall. "To Severus Snape," she said, eyes pooling with unshed tears, "may you find your peace."

Next to her, Draco had conjured up a glass jar of sherbet lemons, placing it delicately next to the lily. "To Albus Dumbledore," he whispered, "a man greater than us all."

They turned to back away and make space for others who wished to approach the wall, only to find a potter looking at them, uncaring of the tears running down his face.

"Thank you." he said, choking up.

Hermione smiled sadly, "There is nothing to thank us for."

Potter shook his head adamantly, "That's probably the stupidest thing I've heard you say. You're bleeding heroes, Dagworth."

She huffed, "I told you once, Potter, I'm no hero."

He laughed loudly, "There's no escaping that now."

And he was right, unfortunately, because the whole tent had met the, with loud applause and hoots when Kingsley brought them forward to bestow their Order of Merlins, the response of the crowd only a decibel softer than that of the Golden Trio.

Hermione shook her head as they left the stage.

"Is peace and quiet too much to ask for?" she said, mostly to herself.

Draco heard and laughed brightly, tipping his head back, "I don't think it's in the near future, love."

 **a/n:** Well, there you go! My first fic officially done! Unsure if I should add a wedding snippet, so this is the end for now. I'm working on a Theo/Hermione and a Sirius/Hermione fic right now. I'll probably end up posting the Theo one first, so if you want you can keep posted or you know, not.


	59. I Thee Wed

**April 16, 1999 , Domaine de Chantilly**

"What do you mean booked?" asked a disgruntled man with a heavy Australian accent. "The entire bleedin' palace is _booked,_ you're telling me? What kind of jumped up dill has enough money to throw around to rent a whole palace?"

"I'm sorry, Sir, but it's a private affair, highly confidential." said the man at the gate, who looked tired of warding off tourists who hadn't gotten the message that the chateau was unavailable for the day. The French Ministry had disallowed any charms stronger than a simple Muggle Repelling Charm, so naturally, a few stragglers would get in every now and again.

Several wizards had been employed to keep unwanted people, muggles and magical folk alike, from entering the chateau. But some tourists, like the man he was currently speaking too, had trouble understanding that closed meant closed.

"Is it royalty, then? Or a politician?" the man's wife chimed in. "Can't you let us in just for a tiny bit? We're on our honeymoon."

"Sorry, madam, but the chateau's been booked for a wedding for months now, don't know how you could've missed it" he said apologetically, "If you come again tomorrow, you'll have no problem at all."

"Oi, Kim!" called one of his coworkers, who looked red in the face as he approached them, "You speak Chinese, right? I got a tourist group that don't speak English for shite, mate. Think you can handle that?"

"I'm Korean, Davies." he growled to the young man.

"Why are all of you British?" asked the Aussie suddenly, piping into the conversation.

"I'm sorry, sir, but you have to leave now." he said with an air of finality and let out a sigh of relief when the couple begrudgingly scuttled off.

"Bloody hell, makes you wish you could just stun them." muttered Davies.

"Hey, lad, your Chinese guys are trying to pry the gates open." he said, eyeing the group who had approached the wrought iron fence.

"Oi! What the buggering hell are you lot doin'!"

* * *

 **February 14, 1999 , Diagon Alley**

"I can't believe I'm not invited to the ceremony!" hissed Pansy, tossing the powder blue envelope onto the table, it's gold wax seal ruined by the hands of its recipient.

Daphne rolled her eyes, years with dealing with Pansy had left her immune to the girl's dramatics. "It's a small ceremony, she was adamant on having only their closest family and friends. And you're lucky that she's even invited you to the reception, remember when you kept trying to steal her _fiance_ last year?"

Pansy narrowed her eyes at the blonde, and tossed her hair over her shoulder, "It's so like her to have a small ceremony, if it were me, I'd have the entire Wizarding World at my wedding."

"Well, it _isn't_ you, and I think it's a wonderful idea." Daphne said defensively, "I've seen the pictures, and it's in the woods right next to the chateau. They're having an oak grove planted and she wants it very traditional."

Pansy wrinkled her nose in disdain, "So she won't even be wearing shoes?"

"Of course not, the ceremony calls for you to be as close to the earth as possible, and who in their right mind would wear heels in the woods?"

Pansy huffed, "Now I don't even _want_ to attend the ceremony."

"I think it's going to be beautiful." Daphne sighed happily.

"So which ballroom are they using?" Pansy asked.

"I'm not sure, but they got the whole palace shut down so -"

" _They rented out the entire palace?!"_ Pansy shrieked, drawing attention to their table.

Daphne tried hiding behind her menu in embarrassment as she tried to calm down an enraged and jealous Pansy Parkinson.

* * *

 **February 14, 1999 , The Burrow**

"Did you get one as well, Harry?"asked Neville as he stepped out of the fireplace, dusting off the ashes from his person with one hand, the other was holding a powder blue envelope.

"Yeah, all of us have one, even Ron." Harry said, scratching his head in confusion.

"Don't have a bloody clue why though, I was a right wanker to her in Hogwarts. I don't even think she likes me much." Ron said, frowning at the invitation.

"No truer words have come out of your mouth, brother of mine." said Fred, who had tossed his own invitation into the pile on the table. "I don't think Mione wants you there either. Probably her mum's idea."

"Well, I for one, am excited." said Ginny brightly, "Have you seen where the venue is? I've never been to Paris."

Ron rolled his eyes at his sister, "Haven't you had your fair share of parties, Gin? Think of all the reporters that'll be there."

"There won't be any." said George, chiming in, "I spoke to her just last week while we were going over details of a potion she's developing for Wheezes, and they've paid off the Prophet to leave them alone."

"But why are _we_ invited?" Ron asked.

"Dunno about you lot, but George and I have always been on alright terms with Mione." said Fred, "But I reckon it's them trying to start over, you know? Offering the proverbial olive branch."

"Do we have to go?" whined Ron.

"We're all going and that's final." said Molly, coming out from the kitchens, "She saved your lives more than once, and even if it is all for the sake of their image, it's a nice gesture of them to invite all of us."

Ron groaned, "Can I use my old dress robes, then?

"The reception's at a _palace_ , Ron." Ginny said, "This isn't the Ministry Christmas party we're talking about. If you even try to step foot into that place with robes that mum picked out for you, Narcissa Malfoy will kill you."

"It's just a bloody wedding!"

* * *

 **April 14, 1999 , Dagworth-Granger Manor**

"Clip all the white roses, Pip." Narcissa instructed , "But only the ones in full bloom, then cast an Ever-living Charm before you arrange them."

"Yes, Mistress." the house elf said, before popping out of sight.

"Clara, how are the oak trees growing?" Narcissa asked, sipping her tea as she glanced at the pictures and papers the event planner had set on the table.

"Beautifully, Madam Malfoy." said the young woman brightly, "The wildflowers have grown perfectly, as well."

Narcissa nodded, "And what about the bouquet?"

"The daffodils are perfect, Madam." Clara said happily, "The rooms the bride is staying in are in the opposite wing of the groom. Her hair and make up artist will be there by seven in the morning for photographs and then by eleven she has lunch with her family, then she gets ready again for the ceremony. Her robes have already been sent to the Palais, as well as the gown for the reception and the pictorial. The groom's things have been prepared as well."

"Very good, Clara." acknowledged Narcissa, pleased in having found a competent witch to plan everything, "And is everything ready for the ceremony?"

"Of course, Madam, everything will go as you expect it." Clara nodded, "The crystal goblets may have arrived late along with the party favors, but I've already deducted a considerable amount from both cheques, and have ensured that they will be there in time for set up tomorrow."

Narcissa nodded, "I'll leave everything else to you then, dear."

"Yes, Madam." the lady said, before another elf appeared to show her out.

"I've never seen you look so happy, Mother." said a voice from behind her.

Narcissa's lips quirked into a knowing smile as her son slid into the seat Clara had occupied.

"Well, things rarely go completely my way, darling." she said.

A fine blonde eyebrow arched on her son's forehead, "That's a blatant lie, Mother, and you know it."

"Oh, hush," Narcissa admonished. "And where is your bride to be?"

"I'm starting to think you like her better than me." Draco mused, "She's having a bit of a lie down before supper. Your little fashion show from this morning tired her out."

"It wasn't a _fashion show_ ," she said, narrowing her eyes, "It was her final dress fitting. We had to settle on a final hairstyle, too."

Draco gave a theatrical yawn, "Yes, yes, I can't wait to be done with all this feminine stuff."

Narcissa shook her head in amusement, "Just you wait, my dragon. When you see her, you'll remember why you asked her to marry you in the first place."

"Hermione reminds me everyday, Mother." he grinned.

Narcissa just smiled knowingly at her love-struck son.

* * *

 **April 16, 1999 , Bridal Suite, Domaine de Chantilly**

"You look lovely, Mira." said Lyra Black, as she affixed pale blue and yellow wild flowers into her daughter's curls.

"Thank you, mother." she said, smiling softly.

Her reflection smiled back at her from the gold plated mirror, and she had to agree with her mother, she did look quite lovely. The robes she had chosen were made of pale white layers of chiffon that floated dreamily as she walked, cinching at her waist and flowing down in a shower of fabric. Her arms and shoulders were bare, void jewelry except for the Black heirloom necklace her grandfather had given her as a child.

Her robes and the flowers in her hair looked out of place amidst the grandeur of the palace, its simplicity almost paled in comparison to the chateau. But even the magnificence of the Domaine de Chantilly could not rival the glow of happiness in Hermione's eyes. Her cheeks were stained a pretty shade of pink from all the excitement. She had spent the morning arguing with her mother and Narcissa about using makeup, wanting everything to be as natural as possible for the ceremony. In the end, she had conceded to the bare minimum, lipstick and rouge and a charm to brighten her complexion.

A knock sounded from the other side of her suite door, and her father emerged, smiling at his daughter proudly. He had just come back from having a chat with Draco, who was on the other side of the palace in his own personal suite, probably being tormented by Theo and Blaise.

Her own bridal party consisted of just Daphne and Fleur, who were busy running over last minute preparations and fussing about in their powder blue and gold robes. Daphne had been the one to coax her into having her hair decorated with flowers, much to the relief of her mother, who, although she had complete control of what Hermione would look like during the reception, was antsy about her daughter's choices for the actual ritual.

"Are you ready, ma cher?" her father asked lovingly.

Hermione grinned excitedly and nodded, taking her father's hand in hers. A look at the clock told them that it was half past five in the afternoon, just thirty minutes to sunset.

"On three now, Mira." her father said, "One, two, three!"

Several pops of Apparation sounded, leaving the room empty a moment later.

Draco stood in the middle of the grove in the circle of flowers his mother had tended to religiously for months, fiddling with his fingers in anticipation. He was thankful, on his part, that his bride to be had chosen to go the traditional route, there was less of a crowd, and a more solemn air to the entire thing.

Theo chuckled beside him knowingly, noticing his nervous tick. "Calm down, Drake," he said, "Blaise was only taking the mickey earlier about stealing Mione before you could chain her down."

Draco rolled his eyes, "As if Zabini can go a second without Daphne."

He looked around for what seemed the hundredth time since he had arrived in the grove, standing in a semi-circle around him were their guests, a mere fifty or less in attendance. He spied Hermione's grandfather at the very front, alongside his Aunt Andromeda, Remus, and Teddy Lupin. The Greengrasses were there, one of the families who had stuck by the Malfoys during and after the war. Luna Lovegood stood next to Rolph Scamander, one of Hermione's work friends. Then there were the Weasley twins, who both he and his fiance had gotten to know well enough in the past year.

There were a few more notable faces in the crowd, a number of Hogwarts professors and several relatives, but but that was all. Everyone was standing barefoot, and smiling at the idea of a traditional ceremony. Alphard in particular, looked very pleased at his granddaughter's choice.

The Kingsley Shacklebolt stood on Draco's right, clothed in ritual robes, as intimidating as ever. Hermione was the one to thank for getting the Minister of Magic to preside over the ritual, her relationship with the powerful man was one that had begun with her storming into his office, raving about werewolf rights and Lupin's reinstatement as a Hogwarts professor.

Draco chuckled at the memory, still finding amusement at the sight of his wife bursting through the doors, leagues in front of him, demanding justice. To this day, the occurrence still made him think that his wife would have thrived as a Gryffindor.

The tell tale pop of Apparation sounded throughout the grove, drawing everyone's attention the the base of the meadow, where an isle of grass had been cleared of flowers. Daphne and Fleur entered following each other, bright smiles plastered on their faces as they came to stand on the opposite end to Draco.

Out of the corner of his eye, Blaise sent Daphne a flying kiss, but Draco truly could not care less. Hermione had finally entered, a vision in white, her hair decorated in flowers, flowing in a curtain for curls that framed her face. The sight of pure happiness painted in her expression almost brought him to tears.

Her father and mother walked her to the middle of the meadow. Draco shook her father's hand, and embraced her mother before taking her hand in his and guiding her to where he had stood.

Kingsley's voice was a buzz of sound in his ears, merely background noise as he stared at his fiance, whose expression mirrored his. When the golden cord was tied around their hands, he felt a rush of magic flow through him, feeling like a blast of warm air. Hermione seemed to have experienced a similar thing, as she took in a deep breath.

"This cord is a symbol of the connection between your two lives. As your hands are bound together by this cord, so too, will your lives be bound together in marriage." Kingsley announced.

Together, they recited, " _We swear by peace and love to stand, heart to heart and hand to hand. Mark, O Magic, and hear us now, confirming this our Sacred Vow. Ye are Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone. I give ye my Body, that we Two might be One. I give ye my Spirit, 'til our Life shall be Done."_

"Now you will feel no rain, for each of you will be shelter to the other. Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be warmth to the other. Now you will feel no loneliness, for each of you will be a companion to the other. Now you are two bodies, but there is only one life before you. Go now to your dwelling place, to enter the days of your life together. And may your days be good, and long upon the earth."

And with those last words, Kingsley tapped his wand on the cord between them, and it twisted and coiled upwards, bringing them closer together before erupting above them in a shower of golden sparks. The two met in the middle, sharing their first kiss as husband and wife.

"I love you." he whispered in her ear.

"And I love you." she replied.

They leaned in to share another kiss, feeling, for the first time in a long time, complete happiness.

* * *

 _ **a/n:**_ Hello! I really wanted to write a wedding chapter, so here's an itty bitty one! I borrowed the vows from a traditional Celtic Vow and an Irish vow of unity. Kingsley's last bit was from a Apache wedding blessing that I really liked. Also the Domaine de Chantilly is a beautiful place and I could picture Narcissa perfectly in my head. If you guys are ever in Paris, plan a day trip there! It's such a gorgeous place to visit.

Also, an update on my SiriMione fic (which I've decided to name Saving Grace). I've had to start it from scratch because I write my first drafts on paper and our maid threw out ALL of my drafts (even some stories I haven't started yet). So it's taking longer than I thought to start it over again. Meanwhile, I have a Newt/Hermione fic and another Dramione fic cooking that I'm really excited about so I hope you all stick around!


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